Molten
by Glass Asylum
Summary: This is a the story of a team newly formed at Beacon, who have chosen the wrong time to attend school. Each a wild card and damaged in their own way, they can barely be civil to one another, let alone work together. A primordial chaos is stirring, and it will take more than the walls of Beacon to help ensure the survival of all of Remnant.
1. Prologue

This was the day. Four different acceptance letters to four different students with very different skill sets. The airship would be in each respective city to pick up new students at the scheduled time, and they were expected to be at the loading dock on time. They were on their way to Beacon Academy, to hone their craft and to graduate to being full-fledged Hunters and Huntresses.

Modriot watched the airship touch down with calm grace, her gaze careful and precise. She had applied to Beacon for reasons of her own, though the tales of capable warriors coming from the place was a definite bonus. She was seeking. . . Not quite a change of pace, but something that had much more promise than that. She had disregarded the idea of riding the airship with the other new students, preferring to arrive in Vale a few days ahead of schedule to watch the students disembark the vehicle, sizing up possible teammates.

She took a careful seat on some shipping crates, her legs crossed. The ridiculous metal contraption gleamed brilliantly in the midday sun; polished windows and chrome exterior casting back the sheen of pure light. It almost hurt to look at.

With a groan, the ramp extended down and hit the ground. Students started getting off and scattering in the various directions, either making their way to the school or content to wander around Vale before heading to Beacon for the mandatory welcome from the Headmaster. Modriot wondered what kind of man he was, considering his school was almost singlehandedly responsible for producing the best Hunters and Huntresses in Remnant. She touched her face, giggling to herself. No doubt she would be taken for alumni upon entering the grounds. She would probably use that to her advantage. There were very seldom occasions where she could not spin something to her advantage.

Jacen walked out of the airship, pushing his way through the crowd. His eyes located a park bench that was vacant, and he made his way to it. Settling down on it, he pulled a pair of blue-lensed sunglasses from his pocket and placed them on his face. He spread his arms out on the back of the bench and crossed his legs lazily, looking every inch the punk slacker. He eyed the other students skeptically. He had never had a team before; they would either be helpful or, most likely, just get in the way. He also had decided early on that he wasn't going to allow himself to get close to any of them; death was a frequent companion in their line of work, and if he got attached to any of his teammates, he'd just regret it in the long run.

He noticed a girl not too far from him on some shipping crates, also watching the students disembark the ship. He shrugged and ignored her, noting that she wasn't doing anything interesting. He watched as a girl in a strangely cut coat and goggles jump off the side of the ramp and keep her distance from the rest of the herd of students, the multiple ribbon-thin tails of the coat swirling around her. She looked like she was trying to avoid being touched as best as she could. Before he could think of a proper disparaging comment, she disappeared, and his attention was drawn to a guy in a flame patterned jacket dragging himself out of the airship very last.

"What in hell did I get myself into?" Jacen asked himself as he pulled himself off the bench and jamming his hands into his pockets. He started walking behind a large group of students that were heading in the direction of the academy, and their incessant chattering was slightly starting to get on his nerves. "At least I'll have a place to eat and sleep for a while." He whispered to himself resignedly, smirking as he walked the cobbled path to Beacon.

Mallaithe entered the room ahead of everyone and staked out a spot in the back, her back against the wall. She hated it when her back was unguarded, and that had been a lesson hard learned. The tails of her mistcoat gently flowed around her ankles, almost as if they were playing with an invisible mist. It was a peculiar design, a solid torso piece with sleeves, but it split into strips from the waist down to her ankles.

Students were starting to file and line up near the front by the stage. There was a large screen and a single solitary microphone on it. A woman with her blonde hair drawn back into a tight bun tapped studiously on a pad in her hands, staring at the screen. Her lips were drawn into a line, her eyes squinting behind her glasses. She said something underneath her breath, and then looked up at the filling room. She wasn't the Headmaster, but she no doubt had some kind of authority here.

The room finished filling, then the heavy doors slammed shut with an abrupt thud. It was enough to still the chatter that had begun to steadily grow. The woman stepped up to the microphone.

"Hello, and welcome to Beacon Academy. My name is Glynda Goodwitch. We would like to extend a warm hand of welcome to all our new students and to those of you returning to us for another year of study." She spoke with a calm voice, dignity echoing in her words. "Please allow me to introduce Headmaster Ozpin."

A sedate man in a green suit and white hair then stepped up to the microphone, a coffee mug in one hand and a silver handled cane in the other. He gave a small smile as he surveyed the room, then leaned forward to speak.

"I'll be brief. You are here to train to be the defenders of this world. You come to us looking for instruction and direction. Put all your energies into learning all that you can, and you will go far. That being said, do not expect to be coddled while you are here."

His serious words echoed around the hall, the weight of them sinking onto each of the students.

"Welcome to Beacon."

He took a sip from his mug, then walked away from the stage.

Glynda then addressed the student body. "Initiation and the assigning of teams for first year students will be tomorrow. All returning students may return to their dormitories. First year students will sleep in the main hall tonight. You are dismissed."

The babble of conversation started up in full force when Professor Goodwitch left the stage. Mallaithe sank against the wall, her legs unable to hold her any longer. This was it. She was here, and this was happening.

Aiden laid on his back, staring at the ceiling. Dinner had been a blur, and now he was bunked down with the other students in the main hall. Two sisters were throwing pillows at each other, but they were far enough away that he could ignore them. He touched one of his revolvers under his pillow, getting a sense of security from them. They provided him with a constant in this ever-changing world.

He could feel his eyelid growing heavy, but he turned on his stomach to get a look around the room first. There were multicolored masses of people on the floor, girls segregated from boys on the very first night. He smiled as he saw the color orange on people's clothing and things. He particularly liked that color.

He turned on his back and closed his eyes, imaging what the initiation would be in the morning. He hoped it would be nothing too strenuous; he really hated expending energy when he didn't have to. Did Huntsmen have an option for a desk job? He hoped so.

Soon, he and every other student were sound asleep, dreaming of what the morning would bring.

 _Author's Note:_

 _Welcome to Molten. This has been a joy and a pain in the ass to write. That being said, there is a few things that need to be known. Modriot stems from another story, some of you may know, called Preacognitis Black. I have the great pleasure of being friends with Hydratedcrayon, and he has offered her to join the fray in this story. I do not own Jacen or Aiden, but Mallaithe only. This team is collaborative, and each member very much like their owner. I shall be trying to update regularly, and look forward to hopefully hearing what you have to say. I do spend some of my time helping out with another delightful work, called "Sunshine and Shadows" by RejectedKnight34. For now, it is a pleasure to meet you, and once again, welcome to Molten._


	2. Flight into the Unknown

Aiden groaned and covered his head with his pillow. It was morning already, and he could hear the other students getting up and moving around. _It's way too early for this kind of thing_ , he thought to himself, trying to block out the noise.

It was no good. The room was filling up with the incessant chatter of the new initiates, as was to be expected on the very first day of enrollment. Aiden sat up and stretched, his joints creaking from his night spent on the floor. His stomach rumbled, voicing its complaint loudly. He needed some breakfast, preferably a lot of it. Getting out of his sleeping bag, he knelt and began rolling it up, tying it off at two places to keep it from unrolling. Stretching one more time, he rose, gathering his things. They had been assigned a rocket-propelled locker the day before where they could keep their things. He had been pleased to learn that he could send his locker anywhere based upon a six digit code he typed into his scroll. It would come in handy in future, he assumed.

He changed out of his pajamas into his battle clothes, already feeling the excitement of initiation creeping into his bones. His clothes were relatively simple, a white T-shirt and black pants. He wore a black hooded jacket with orange flames licking up the waist and around his wrists. He strapped on his shoulder armor, and tucked the straps of his metal gas mask into his back pocket. He was ready to take on the day, albeit reluctantly

He lazily strolled into the cafeteria, the scents of breakfast all around him. Here came the hard part: actually choosing what to eat. He could have easily put down a few platefuls, but he didn't think that that kind of gluttony would have been allowed. After all, Huntsmen learned self-control and restraint for all things, didn't they?

Then, he smelled it, warm and fluffy and delicious.

FRENCH TOAST.

He found the nearest clean plate and proceeded to stack it high, slathering it with butter and coating it with powdered sugar and syrup. He grabbed some clean silverware before speedwalking to the nearest available table. He set his plate and silverware down then sat down himself. Cutting a piece of French toast, he raised it to his mouth.

Oh yes. He lived for this moment every day. Food would not disappoint him, or hurt him. Much better than people.

Once half of the French toast had disappeared off his plate in record time, he then allowed himself to look around the room. Students were busy eating and talking, while others stood in line to get breakfast. The older students were wearing their uniforms, so it was easy to pick out the first years. They stood out in a motley of colors, ranging from hot reds to cold blacks and whites. They carried an assortment of weapons, everything from ranged to melee, dual-handed to single handed to not needing a hand to wield it. Everything was unique and original.

It really just looked like too much effort to Aiden.

Modriot sat at a table by herself, a small glass in front of her. It was filled with a clear liquid that she sipped slowly, surveying the room. To the untrained eye, it looked like she was drinking plain water. In all actuality, she was sipping dry gin, snuck in skillfully from a flask kept hidden deep within her robes, as close to her body as possible. She had developed a taste for it early on, and liked to drink it in her down time. She also knew why she was sitting alone, and it didn't bother her. Most other students looked like they were terrified of her, but they were most likely just terrified of her face. The right side of her face had been branded with swirling archaic mark that stretched from her jawline to her eyelid, even reaching the side of her nose. Her missing left arm was also a noticeable deterrent. The vertical slash over her left eye also added to the image.

"Would all first year students please report to Beacon Cliff for initiation? Again, all first year report to Beacon Cliff immediately!" The disembodied voice of Professor Goodwitch rang over the dining hall, cutting through the chatter.

Modriot hammered back what was left in the glass and set it on the table, then rose and walked away, leaving the glass. She didn't worry about trivial things like that. Her ink blue robe tails eddied around her dark brown boots as she strode with a confident step. The left sleeve was missing, and the right cuff stretched to her wrist. She also wore a lighter blue hooded mantle that had cream colored flame embroidery stretching from the bottom upwards. She wore matching ink blue leggings underneath the robe with metal bracers reaching from her shin to her upper thigh. A brown leather belt with utility pouches cinched around her lower waist, holding up four coattails, two in the back that extended down to her ankles and two in the front that went down to her knees. Her right arm was covered in a light brown vambrace that had a simple design inlaid in metal. Her right hand was engulfed in a scale-mail caestus, and she wore a wine-red amulet on a thin chain around her neck. She knew that she looked intimidating, and she was not bothered by that in the least bit.

There were a few details on initiation that floated around as common knowledge, but not much. There was something about retrieving a relic and making it back to the cliff, but that was about it. There were rumors of students dying during initiation, but Modriot took that with a grain of salt. Surely the instructors would intervene if things go too out of hand.

Modriot joined the throng of students making their way to the cliffs. She could see two figures up ahead, standing near the cliffs. Coming closer, she could see that it was Professors Ozpin and Goodwitch. They were standing in front of a long line of metal plates that were set on top of the ground, each emblazoned with the school's crest. Goodwitch was busy tapping away at her large scroll, her eyes narrowed in concentration behind her small oval spectacles. Ozpin stood by her side, sipping calmly from a mug that was also marked with the school's crest.

As the group grew closer, Professor Goodwitch looked up from her scroll and stepped forward. She indicated the platforms and said in calm, authoritative voice "Will each student step on a plate, and make sure that you are standing on the middle of it. This is the first step of your initiation."

Modriot stepped forward and stood on the nearest plate to her. She was standing between a girl in a red and black duster with lots of ribbon thin tails and a boy in a colonial-looking jacket colored blue and green with black accents. She shifted lightly on her plate, setting her stance. Something about them was setting her on edge.

As all the students stood on their plates, Professor Ozpin looked over all of them and said in a calm voice, "For years, you have trained to become warriors at your respective schools. Today, those learned abilities will be evaluated in the Emerald Forest."

Professor Goodwitch then chimed in. "I'm sure many of you have heard rumors and small talk about the assignment of teams. We will now put your confusion to an end. Every one of you will be given teammates. Today."

There was some uncomfortable shuffling and murmurs from the other students. Modriot just stood there, completely calm. Nothing they could say would rattle her.

Ozpin took another sip from his mug, then proceeded with his instructions. "The teammates assigned to you will be with you for the next four years. So, it will be imperative to you that you be paired with someone you can work well with. That now being said, the first person with whom you share eye contact with after you have landed will be your partner for the remainder of your time here at Beacon."

Modriot just blinked at him. Surely the man couldn't be serious, could he?

"After you have partnered up, you will need to make your way to the northern part of the forest. Expect to meet opposition along the way. If you hesitate in any way to destroy whatever crosses your path, you will die. You will be monitored remotely and graded on your performance for the remainder of your initiation. Our instructors will not intervene in any way. You will find an abandoned temple that will hold several relics. It is your assignment, alongside your partner, to choose one and bring it back to the top of the cliff. It will be regarded, alongside your standing, and grade you appropriately for it. Are there any questions?"

There was nothing but silence.

"Professor Ozpin?" A girl near the end of the line asked nervously. "How will we be getting down?"

"You will be using your own landing strategy. You will be falling."

There were three loud clicks and a crack from the end of the line, and a boy in yellow was catapulted off the cliff. The clicks and cracks got closer, and soon, the girl in the duster next to Modriot was launched into the air, her coattails billowing out around her. Modriot took a breath, counted the clicks, and felt herself being flung into the air at a speed she wasn't quite expecting.

The wind rushed in her ears, but Modriot blocked it out, quickly assessing the situation. She flew past trees, zeroing in on the one she would land on. She needed to land soon. Her boot struck a branch and she used that momentum to flip down onto a lower branch. She grasped the next branch and swung forward, her arm holding all her weight in check. She then bounced off the next tree and landed on the ground in a front roll. She sprang up from the roll next to a sapling tree, and she put her arm up against it, bracing herself. She had not focused on keeping her magic engaged while she was landing, and she could feel the onset of a bronchial attack. She needed to catch her breath; the wind had stolen it on her trip down.

Taking a few deep slow breaths, the dizziness and shortness of breath receded, supplemented by her focusing her magic to keep her ailment in check. She needed to get it together, and move on. She had no time for such weakness.

Mallaithe soared through the air, the tails of her coat whipping around her. She hurtled towards a large oak tree, moving like a rocket. She drew two long dueling daggers from her belt, and slammed into a tree in front of her, plunging the daggers deep into the wood. She hung there for a second, then pulled her feet to her chest. Pushing out, she pulled the daggers out of the wood and flipped away from the tree. The descent down was a short one, and she landed hard on the ground, one knee pressed down and the tails of her coat spread out like tentacles. She rose, sheathed her daggers, and started running.

 _Gotta find a partner, gotta find a partner._

She didn't know anyone in this school, so it was really up in the air about working well with whomever she paired up with. She didn't like people, so it was a moot point anyway. She streaked through the forest, a black and red blur. She wore a red sleeveless dress underneath a black low-collared shirt. Over that, she wore what she called her mistcoat: a single-breasted tailored black trench coat with red lapels and flared sleeves. The most interesting thing about it was the bottom of the coat. It was a solid fitted piece to the waist, where it then split into multiple ribbon thin strips that reached the tops of her ankles. She wore black sheer tights and back boots with a low flat heel that laced to her shins. She had a brown strap that crossed her chest from over her right shoulder to her left hip, and two more crisscrossing over her hips under the coat. The belts carried her curved dueling daggers and a collection of small ceramic knives that has explosives forged into the tips. Around her neck was a gray choker with black lace, and she wore a pair of blasting goggles on her forehead over her bangs. Near the back of her head, she wore a black mini top hat with a red ribbon and veil.

She was terrified of people, and she blamed her appearance for that; it was what had caused people to tease her most of her life. She had hair in three colors, her bangs and the top of her head being white, and the long growth being a mix of light gray and black. She pulled the black top section back into a low ponytail and let the gray section flow freely. Her eyes were an extremely light gray, almost white, and were marked with a small red slash over each eye.

As she was running, she heard a sharp crack. Stopping immediately, she looked around, trying to pinpoint the source of the noise. She drew her dueling daggers slowly, holding them blade parallel to her arm and keeping her head on a swivel. Suddenly, there was a loud roar as a large Beowulf bounded out of the underbrush and stood snarling at her. It was a gigantic creature, nearly seven feet tall, dwarfing her mere five feet. It was jet black, like more creatures of Grimm, with piercing red eyes. Its head appeared to be made out of bone and had the traditional markings on it. It had spine-like protrusions of bone down its back and along its arms. It roared menacingly at Mallaithe, and launched itself at her, claws slashing.

Mallaithe ducked to the side, her boots sliding along the ground. She sprinted forward and then went to the ground, using her momentum to propel herself on her hip. Her blades slashed at the Beowulf's legs, taking its legs out from under it. It went down hard, thrashing in the dirt and wailing. Mallaithe jumped upright, daggers at the ready. The Beowulf got to its feet and growled, brandishing its claws. She jumped back and up, her hand at her belt. She unhooked two knives from her belt and threw them, embedding them in the Beowulf's hide. She flicked her fingers toward them, and the explosives embedded in the tips detonated, taking chunks out of the Beowulf's hide. It howled again, and leapt after her. Its slashing claws knocked her hard in the stomach, and sent her flying backwards into a tree. Her back hit the tree, and she slid down it, coming to rest at the base. She somersaulted out of the way as the Beowulf slammed headlong into the tree and knocked it over. Mallaithe got to her feet, holding her stomach, one dagger held ready.

The Beowulf stood snarling, its nostrils flaring as if scenting for blood. Mallaithe slowly moved her hand from her stomach to her belt, trying not to draw its attention. She lightly held two daggers between her fingers, grasping them by their handles. She pulled them up slowly, then flung them at the Beowulf, aiming for the neck. One was swatted away by a large paw, but one struck true, burying itself to the hilt in midnight fur. The Beowulf clawed at its neck, but it was deep enough that it could not easily be hooked and pulled out. Mallaithe reached for small black device, shaped like a watch, high on her wrist under her sleeve, and tapped the button.

The knife exploded, its ceramic tip becoming shrapnel that lodged itself in the Beowulf's neck and flew out in various directions. A brilliant crimson spray, shining like silk in the sunlight, fanned out from the neck. Mallaithe barely missed the spray as she sprang at the monster, launching herself up at it. Her daggers, drawn and held in an x, reached up and crossed in the flesh of the Beowulf. She slashed down and hard, putting her weight behind it. The flesh and connective tendons severed, and the Beowulf's head toppled to the ground, landing with a dull thud.

Mallaithe had landed with one knee pressed to the ground, and now she rose, scanning the area for more Grimm.

Instead, she made eye contact with a dark skinned boy in a flame embroidered jacket who was leaning lazily against a tree and had been watching from behind. He flashed her a brilliant smile.

"Yo."

"Where in the blue hell is this temple?" Jacen grumbled as he walked, his hands stuffed in his pockets. He kicked a loose stone and watched it bounce along the ground. He seemed to be going uphill, and he wasn't sure if that was a good thing. He hadn't encountered any Grimm, so he supposed that was good. He hadn't found a partner, and he mentally catalogued that under "not certain if good or not."

He was sure he'd find a partner en route to the temple. Maybe a single person had made their way to the temple on their own, and he could just partner there. He pulled one hand out of his pocket and used it to touch Starduster, who was slung across his back. It was a scouting semi-automatic rifle that had the ability to shift forms into either a greatsword or a crossbow. He found it to especially useful, especially when it came to hunting Grimm.

 _Snap!_

Jacen moved fluidly, unslinging Starduster and flourishing it with a low tight flip into his palms. He dropped into his firing stance, his barrel aimed in the direction of the noise and right at a girl with long dirty gray hair and straight bangs. She stared down the barrel at him with midnight blue eyes, then shrugged and kept walking. Surprised at the nonchalance of the encounter, Starduster dissolved into thin air as Jacen lost his concentration on its tangibility. Shaking his head, he chased after the girl, who was now his assigned partner.

He slowed down to a walk alongside her. Putting his hands behind his head, he attempted to strike up a conversation with her.

"So, I guess we're partners now, huh?"

Silence.

"Well, my name is Jacen. What's yours?"

"Modriot," came her clipped reply.

"So. . . Do you know where the forest temple is?"

Silence.

Suddenly, he was struck with the desire to stop talking. He chewed on his lip and followed her silently, noting that she seemed to have a ghost of a smile at his sudden silence. They walked along, both of them taking care to continually check their surroundings.

Jacen and Modriot crested a hill, and there, down below them, stood the ruins of a long-forgotten building with a circle of small pedestals lining the interior. That must have been it. Jacen narrowed his eyes, noticing there was two figures already moving into the circle. The colors of their clothes indicated that it was the girl in the ribbon coat and the boy in the flame patterned jacket.

"Let's go." Modriot commanded, breaking into a run and leaping down the hill. Jacen didn't like the tone in her voice, but she was right. He followed her, right on her heels, down to the ruins. The other pair were there, looking confusedly at the small item in ribbon-coated girl's hand.

"Is this some kind of a joke?" Modriot demanded coldly. She had a small green gear in the palm of her hand, and she was staring at it. "No, we have one just like it." The boy in the flame patterned coat said, taking the gear from his partner and holding it up where Jacen and Modriot could see. It was identical to theirs, a small six-toothed gear painted emerald green. "I don't know if it's a joke, but we have our objective. Get a relic and make it back to the cliffs." Jacen said, pointing back in the direction they came. Suddenly, a loud roar shook the forest, and it seemed to be getting closer. "Besides, I think we may have some company."


	3. An Exercise of Faith

They sprinted towards the hill after a hurried round of introductions. The roars were getting closer, and the trees were shaking behind them. Modriot looked over her shoulder as she ran, her eyes scanning behind her. She was flanked by Mallaithe and Jacen on either side, and Aiden in front of her, a black metal gas mask pulled over his face. They slid to a halt in front of some crumbling ruins.

There was a shattered bridge, and lots of scattered rose petals all over the ruins. "I think this is where there was that intense initiation a few years ago. I heard they killed a Giant Nevermore by beheading it." Jacen remarked, swinging Starduster around to come to rest in his hands. Mallaithe had her dueling daggers in her hands, nodding in agreement. "Wasn't there another team with them that took out a really big Deathstalker alongside them?" she asked.

Modriot nodded, making sure to keep her magic in check. If it came down to a scrap, she did not want a bronchial attack in the middle of it. "I believe you are right. They killed it by embedding its tail stinger into its head." Aiden had stopped ahead of them and was staring up the cliff face. "Well, great. How are we supposed to get up there?" He looked down at the remnants of the shattered bridge. "Any idea on how we're supposed to get across?"

"Well, probably not by standing there." Mallaithe commented as she sprinted past him. She opened a small vial of water that she wore on a chain around her neck and splashed it all into the air. As she neared the end of the bridge, she jumped off and flung her hands outward. The water condensed underneath her and solidified for a split second, allowing her to take a step and jump off it, the water dissipating and moving to solidify again in front of her. As she landed lightly on the other side, coattails swirling, she motioned with her hand, gathering the water to her. She funneled it back into its vial, and recapped it, letting it hang around her neck.

Modriot rolled her eyes, took a few steps backwards, then started running. She reached the edge of the cliff and pushed off, allowing the strength of her legs to propel her forward to the outer broken edge. The distance was quite a large one, and she knew that she wasn't going to land on the other side. She was going to come down right in front of it. As she had predicted, she dropped right in front of the jutting stone, but as her head slipped below the surface, her right arm shot up and caught the ledge. Taking a breath, she hauled herself up and flipped over, landing gracefully on the bridge.

Aiden and Jacen looked at each other.

"Can you make that jump?" Aiden asked.

"Nope, but I do have an idea. Follow me!" Jacen called as he sprinted towards the cliff edge. Instead of running at it head-on, he went at an angle, Starduster morphing in his hands to a giant greatsword. He swung it, and as he did, he went alongside a pillar that was near the edge of the cliff, slicing it near its base. The pillar toppled, and as it went down, both Aiden and Jacen ran along it. As it went completely horizontal, they leaped, one at a time, from the edge of the pillar to the edge of the bridge. They both looked at each other, and proceeded to fistbump each other.

"So, now that we're over here, how do you proceed that we get up there?" Aiden asked, pointing one of his revolvers up at the sheer face of the cliff.

"And what do you propose we do about that?" Mallaithe asked, pointing to a few large black shapes that made their way out of the treeline. It was a pack of eight Beowolves, standing together and howling. Modriot turned and stared at them studiously. "They are considered to be the lowest tier of Grimm, plentiful but stupid. They don't behave like normal wolves, most noticeably because they don't have any self-preservation instinct. Would those with firearms kindly deal with them?"

Aiden and Jacen flashed each other vicious smiles, and then suddenly, the air rang with gunfire. The snarling mixed with howls, and Jacen's voice mixed with it.

"What the literal blue hell?"

The Beowolves were actually attempting to make the leap, settling back on their haunches, the muscles bunching. They sprang forward, clearing the massive distance, more howls ringing through the forest. "They're calling the rest of the pack!" Mallaithe cried, springing forward to stand beside Aiden, her hands at her belt.

"We don't have time for this." Modriot snarled. "Deal with them, and do it quickly!" A Beowulf sprang at her, claws outstretched. She met it head-on, her right leg coming up vertical in a strong kick to meet the onslaught. Her heel caught the Beowulf dead in the chin, knocking it backwards. She then cut low, her legs cutting in a graceful sweep kick, taking the Beowulf's legs out from under it. It then toppled off the stone platform, howling like it was dying. The sickening crunch of its spine being crushed against the unforgiving ground seemed hellishly loud, even in the growing din of battle.

More Beowolves were launching themselves across the chasm, seemingly unaware of the certain death waiting for them on the other side. Jacen's Starduster was emitting sharp cracks as the bullets left the chamber, and his accuracy was merciless, taking Beowolves in square between the eyes. As a pair of Beowolves charged forward, ignoring the bullets, Starduster sifted into its greatsword form in a fine mist of blue-green dust. He stood, breathing calmly, as both the Beowolves attacked him simultaneously. He exhaled, then propelled himself upwards, barely missing the slashing claws. He tucked the hilt of the sword close to his chest with the sword pointed perpendicular to his body, and then spun rapidly on his descent, turning himself into a bladed maelstrom. He whirled downwards, swift as a top. He sliced into the Beowolves, his blade cleaving deeply through bone, fur, and flesh. Their blood sprayed like a scarlet rain, staining the stone beneath them. They started disintegrating almost immediately, their black flesh turning into a midnight dust so fine it seemed like it would reach up and choke the sun.

Aiden had his gas mask pulled down over his face, obscuring his features. You couldn't tell, but his lips were curved upwards in a thin vicious smile. He had holstered both his pistols, and held his hands out in front of him, palms upwards. Suddenly, his hands flared as a jet of flame erupted from the center of his palms and wreathed around his hands, coiling like a dragon. He rocketed himself forward, his right hand outstretched, seeking. He grabbed a Beowulf by the throat and swung around it, setting his feet against its back and putting it into a headlock.

The flames around his hands snaked around his arm up to his elbow, completely engulfing his arm. The stink of burning flesh and fur simultaneously filled the air with a nauseatingly sickly sweet smell with an acrid tang on the end. Mallaithe, who was nearby, could feel her gorge rise at the smell. She uncapped her water and drew it out, using it to form a barrier over her nose and mouth. She turned her head, and was barely able to leap out the way before the raking claws of a Beowulf descended on her. She sprang back on her hands and her body followed through on the momentum, ribbon tails whispering against each other. She landed on her feet, boots skidding against the stone, one dagger held ready in her right hand.

She heard Aiden call to her, surprisingly loud despite the barrier of his mask. He had released the Beowulf slightly, and he centered his feet between its shoulder blades, straddling the bony protrusions on its spine. He pushed back, kicking it forward, its head flopping, partially severed. Mallaithe understood.

She ran forward, dagger extended. She pushed herself up, the blade burrowing into the flesh. She rocked her body to the side, moving in a wide arc to the side of its head. She could feel the resistance as the side of the dagger hit the connective tendon, but her momentum was too great. She completed her arc with her feet on its back. She pulled the dagger out and pushed off from the Beowulf's back, flipping out far enough to miss its spines as the severed head and body fell, spilling its lifeblood to the thirsty stone. She landed upright, noticing that Modriot was already in combat with the Beowulf who had tried to accost her earlier.

Modriot swayed slightly, keeping her body moving. She artfully dodged every swing and swipe the Beowulf aimed at her. Her dirty gray hair waved in time with her, her footwork light and complicated. At the next blow the Beowulf tried to land, Modriot leapt, almost lazily, only to land lightly on its massive paw. She only rested there for a brief second before she leapt again, bringing herself horizontal and striking both booted feet into the Beowulf's muzzle with great force. The resistance of the Beowulf's skull was enough for her to push backwards and flip, landing gracefully as the giant Grimm staggered backwards. Jacen took its momentary disorientation to take a flying downward strike at it, cleaving it neatly in two.

There were howls on the other side of the chasm as the Beowolves started to retreat, hastened by Aiden casting fireballs at them. One unfortunate Grimm caught a flaming missile square in its chest as it rose on its hind legs, and the force knocked it backwards into another retreating Beowulf. The four of them stood amidst the decaying corpses, the blood on the stone threatening to lick their boots. They turned to face one another, but before anyone of them could say anything, Modriot's commanding voice broke over the silence.

"We need to reach the top of the cliffs with our partners and relics. Firstly, I have a few questions. Aiden, can you use your fire to propel you upwards?" Aiden reached up and removed his gas mask, tucking its straps into its back pockets. He nodded. "I haven't tried it for very long, though. No telling, really."

"Can you bear any weight?"

"I can carry plenty. I don't know if it'll have any effect on said upwards propulsion, though."

"Mallaithe, can your water platforms hold anyone, or just you?"

Mallaithe moved the water away from her face and funneled it into its vial. "Anyone can stand on them, but they don't stay solid for long. I'm hydrokinetic, not cryokinetic. The water will still be a liquid, but I can pull it tight enough for it to be solid for a few moments."

Modriot nodded sharply. "That'll do. Now, you're, what? One hundred pounds?"

"I weigh one hundred and five pounds."

"Good. That means you're the smallest and lightest, and we need you on top of the cliff edge to help Jacen and I reach the top."

Mallaithe looked over them, then returned her gaze back to Modriot. "What about Aiden?"

Modriot's grin was thin and vicious. "He's going up with you. He's going to carry you to the top."

Both Aiden and Mallaithe opened their mouths to protest, but Modriot cut them off with a sharp wave of her hand. "We need to get moving before the Grimm decide it's safe enough to come back. Aiden, channel your flames down for short bursts. Mallaithe, you'll need to make platforms that he can get to and then jump off of to help gain momentum. Once you're on top of the cliff edge, you'll make platforms that we can jump to in an ascending fashion. It'll be like walking up stairs."

"I know that you two could go separately, but together, you'd be faster and the quicker we get up the cliff, the better. Can you make two smaller individual platforms side by side, Mallaithe?"

She nodded. "It's a bit harder than one complete platform, but I can do it. It'll take a lot of concentration, though. Aiden will have to watch my back in case of Nevermores and other potential Grimm."

Aiden put a hand on Mallaithe's shoulder. "I got'cha covered. Let's get going before Modriot kicks off the edge. Are the tails of your coat flame-proof?"

"They're flame-retardant."

"It'll work. Now, you're gonna want to sit high on my back. I assume you'll need to see where you're placing those platforms."

Mallaithe clambered onto Aiden's back. He stood a good eleven inches taller than her, so the tails of her coat barely brushed the tops of his calves. He looped his arms around her legs, holding her in place. "Are you ready?"

"You're not going to drop me, are you?"

"Nah. Then I'd have to go get you and that'd just be too much work. I'd rather not drop you. Now, here we go!"

Aiden took a running start and leapt off the platform. As he soared into the air, his flames licked out of the bottom of his boots and shot them upwards a few feet. Mallaithe yanked the cap off her water and splashed it upwards. She flung her arms and hands outward, and the spread water gathered and coalesced underneath Aiden's boot to form a thin disc of a circle. He pushed off the water, and again fire jetted from the bottom of his boot to lift them upwards. They were averaging five feet per stride, but the cliff edge was at least four hundred feet high.

The wind whipped Mallaithe's coattails into a frenzy, and she looked back as Aiden kicked off another platform.

 _Fuck._

He was fire, and she was water. She had forgotten the basics of nature. As he kicked off the liquid base, the heat from his boot was evaporating some of the water. If this kept up as it was, she would run out of water before they reached the top, and they still had to get Modriot and Jacen to the top.

This was going to leave them with few options.

"Can you make it the rest of the way without a platform?" She yelled, trying to be heard over the wind. Aiden made no reaction to indicate that he had heard her. Suddenly, there was a pull on her leg. She leaned forward to hear him better.

"Do you trust me?"

"What?!"

"I'm going to let go of your legs. I need to climb around to the front of me. I'm gonna throw you."

"You can't be serious!"

"Just do it!"

She felt Aiden's grip on her legs slacken, and she was suddenly very acutely aware of just how high they were. They were only halfway up the cliff face, and if he was going to throw her, she was going to have to use the rest of the water to skirt the way up. Was he capable of sustaining his own flight for long?

She unwrapped herself slowly, sliding around over his arm so he could get the proper grip on her. There was a moment of terror as she was bounced slightly as he jumped off another platform; she had to unwrap one arm from around him to focus where she was going to place the next platform. She finally made it to the front of him, and he said in her ear "Call your water back. You'll need it; I can't throw you all the way straight."

He was standing in the air, his eyes behind his mask narrowed in concentration as the flames from his boots jetted in a steady fashion. Mallaithe called her water back, focusing it around her mouth like a mask again. "Turn around. I need you facing me for this for work. Whatever you do, don't let go until I tell you."

Taking a deep breath, Mallaithe unhooked her legs from around his waist and lowered them, one at a time, until she was standing atop his boots. He took her hands, one in each of his. "Relax. Don't fight the gravity when it pulls on you."

With that advice, he jetted up and began spinning in a tight circle.

She clung to his hands, feeling gravity pull her legs out behind her. She relaxed her muscles, and felt more than heard him command her to release. She spun outwards and upwards like a clay pigeon, while Aiden plummeted like a stone. The wind was too great for either of them to hear Jacen yelling at them. Aiden got his feet under him and concentrated again, the bursts of flame from his boots stopping his descent and sending him upwards. He couldn't do sustained flight, but he could achieve lift if he timed it right. Just before he felt his body starting to fall, another jet of flame sent him upwards. He had to make it to the top, and he was nearly there!

As Mallaithe felt herself reach the top of her arc, she formed a platform in front of herself, rocketing straight for it. She had made it over the cliff edge, but she needed to stop her flight. She timed it so she landed boot-first on the platform, crouched against it at a downward angle, and leapt off it. She was now aiming for the ground, rapidly approaching it. Another water platform appeared in front of her, and she touched her hands to it, using the platform as a springboard to land on her feet on the solid ground. She called her water to her and funneled it into the vial around her neck. She ran to cliff edge to see where Aiden had landed.

He was nearly there, ten feet away from the edge. The mask on his face made it hard to see, but the lines around his eyes said he was concentrating hard and was near his limit. She got to her knees and reached her hand out. He did one more burst of upward moment, and grabbed her hand, managing to get his arm over the edge to hold himself. Mallaithe hauled backwards, trying to pull him upwards. He outweighed her, and gravity was pulling on his legs that were still hanging down. He dug his elbow into the earth, trying to lever himself up. Slowly, his body inched over the edge before he was completely stomach down on the ground while Mallaithe sat down beside him, panting a bit from the effort. They had made it.

Aiden pulled his mask off his face, and flopped his arm down. "Do you hear that?" he asked. Mallaithe raised her face to the sky, eyes closed. There it was again.

Thunder.

That could only mean one thing.

Rain.

Mallaithe started laughing, standing and throwing her arms to the sky. The clouds were gathering, and the sky was darkening. The first pitter of moisture splashed on her face, and she reached up, watching it slid down her fingertip. She splashed her water out from its vial, and watched it gather around it her outstretched hands. She directed her hands down, and watched the water move through the air like sinuous silvery snake.

It dropped once it came near the cliff edge, falling like the rain from the sky, mirroring her hand motions. It coalesced into a thin disc in front of the stone dais where Modriot and Jacen were waiting. The rain was starting to come down a bit harder now, and while Aiden got to his feet, Mallaithe bit her lip and concentrated harder. Raindrops stopped in their descent around the disc, then melded to it, thickening the width of it. Taking a deep breath, she moved her hands away from each other, causing the water to separate into the two smaller platforms as Modriot had instructed. She watched as Jacen and Modriot jumped onto the platforms, then she quickly made another one in front of them. Her next breath was bit shaky, but she had to keep the platforms.

Aiden stood behind Mallaithe, his pistols gripped in his hands. He didn't trust how quiet the forest was. He could hear the sounds of Jacen and Modriot getting closer behind him, and the much quieter sounds of Mallaithe's breaths growing more ragged. He suspected that her endurance for her Semblance wasn't very high; she had probably never used it for this long. He dropped into a defensive stance as an Ursa made an appearance through the trees, snuffling. It swiveled its head through the trees, nostrils flaring. Aiden noticed with abrupt clarity that the creature was blind. It couldn't see them, and it was likely that the rain was dampening their scents to some degree.

It snuffled again, then proceeded to wander back the way it came. He was vaguely aware that Mallaithe had collapsed to her knees behind him, her arms still outstretched. He could hear Jacen shouting below the edge, but as he turned, he saw the crown of his head, covered in soggy blue and green hair, poking up near the edge. Modriot made it onto the ledge before Jacen, lightly landing on the balls of her feet, her cloak swirling around her. Jacen followed, Starduster once again strapped to his back.

"Get up." Modriot said, swishing past Mallaithe. Her tone held some impatience, likely because she wanted out of the wet. Jacen extended a hand to the panting Mallaithe, who took it gratefully. He hauled her upright, and she steadied herself on his arm. "I'll be okay, really." She said, her breathing evening out. The four of them trudged back to the launching zone, where both Goodwitch and Ozpin were standing underneath a small canopy. Modriot came forward and dropped the gear into Ozpin's waiting hand. Aiden took the matching gear and mirrored Modriot's action. Ozpin nodded, and they walked towards the school, each intent on dry clothes and something hot.

"Canary Achaman, Bacchus Liber, Luck o'Rein, and Timber Aconite."

It was the team assignment ceremony, and Ozpin has called four students forward. The group on the stage consisted of a blonde girl with a winged headband, a bubbly purple-haired boy, a fiery redhead in a matching scarf, and a brunette Faunus sporting wolf ears.

"The four of you retrieved the gray helical gears. From this day forward, you shall work together as team CBLT, with Canary Achaman as your leader."

Applause filled the room, and the newly formed CBLT walked off-stage, Canary nodding solemnly to Ozpin in acknowledgement.

"Modriot Strast. Jacen Galard. Mallaithe o'Ifreann. Aiden Codail."

They filed silently on stage, then stood with their hands behind their backs.

"The four of you retrieved the green spur gears. From this day forward, you will work together as team MGMA. Modriot Strast will lead you."

Applause once again filled the room, and as they walked silently off the stage, Modriot stopped them near the doors. "I'm telling you this now. Willingly or not, I will drag you to glory. It is up to you to decide just how hard you want to make me wrench you to your feet."


	4. The Lie Eternal

The next morning was dark, the iron-gray clouds swollen with a storm. Modriot sat at her desk across the room, the chair facing towards the room. She sat in it, her legs crossed, staring idly around the room. She hadn't slept in her bed, preferring instead the desk chair. The bed emanated a sense of luxury that she didn't feel that she deserved; she felt this way about all beds.

She could faintly hear the sounds of her teammates sleeping, and a thought fleeted through her head that they should rise soon. From what she knew of Aiden, it was likely he wouldn't if he didn't have to. Jacen may rise soon, and Mallaithe would probably be the first. Modriot also decided that she wasn't going to attend classes as well. She appeared in her early thirties, and she knew that while a small transformative spell would add the façade of youth, it would be too much of drag to keep up the spell for any length of time, and she would get bored of it. Besides, she doubted that there was anything that the professors taught that she didn't know already.

Something had drawn her to this school and compelled her to act as a first year student of all things, but she had no idea what.

Her eyes flicked upwards as an alarm clock sounded and Mallaithe got out of bed, her tri-toned hair wild with flyaways. She stretched, her gray tank top showing a thin line of stomach above her short black sleep shorts. She gave Modriot a hesitant smile, and said "Good morning," her almost white eyes flicking down. She walked over to the prone Jacen and gave him a light shake. He sleepily waved an arm at her and rolled on his side, pulling his pillow over his head. Mallaithe sighed, and turned back to her bed. "I'm not even going to bother with Aiden. He'd probably remain comatose no matter what I did."

Modriot nodded, then resettled herself down on her chair. There was an itch of unease blossoming between her shoulder blades, but she didn't know what it was that was causing it. She cast a sharp glance to Mallaithe, who was attempting to get a brush through her hair. "Get dressed, and do it quickly. We need to move, and I will not have anyone slow us down. Fill any spare vessel with a lid with water and keep it close to you."

Getting up, Modriot strode up and over to Jacen's bed. She grabbed his shoulder and shook him hard enough for his teeth to clack together. His eyes sprang open indignantly. Modriot gave him a hard glare that brooked no argument. "Get up." Jacen swallowed any words back into his throat and got up, albeit obstinately slow.

Modriot turned her attention to Aiden, who was happily snoring in his bunk. Weighing her options swiftly, she opted for the direct approach. Gripping the side of his mattress with her arm, she commanded in a clipped voice for Mallaithe to move. Modriot then hauled up and over, pulling the mattress out from under Aiden and spilling him on the floor. He landed in a spill of sheets, floundering slightly. He sat up on the floor, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "Aw man," he said in a piteous voice. "I was having the best dream. I was the king of Mt. French Toast, and any challengers were drowned in my syrup river."

Jacen was in the middle of shrugging into his jacket while he asked "Any reason for this rather brusque awakening?" Modriot gave him a hard look and said "I am leaving. I expect you to come with me as my team. I will have no argument or stragglers. Something is amiss, and it is making me uncomfortable." Aiden rose, stretching his arms over his head. "You sound so ominous. It's not like the world is ending."

A soft wind was blowing through the trees, rustling leaves and layers of fabric. A lone woman stood atop a peak, long dark skirts swaying softly in the breeze. Only the ends of her long inky tresses moved in the air current, most of her being shielded by a black silk parasol. Her dress was the same deep shade as her parasol, with two off center rings of snow white lace hooking over her hip and extending downwards. Her arms were covered in long black opera gloves. Around her neck was a confection in jewelry; an elegant draped collar of black gold with brightly polished diamonds the size of pinheads. Her skin was a dusky shade that seemed to almost glow from within. Her eyes were a fusion of colors, ink blue swirling with brilliant violet. It was almost like the galaxy was trapped within them.

She stared into the distance, focusing on a tall spire that had several bright green orbs suspended in it. Her brow elegantly furrowed as she studied. "It is odd to me, this _academy_." She said the word strangely, as if she were moving it around her mouth like a foreign wine. "I remember when mortals were afraid of the creatures in my night. Now, they stand against them. Slay them for sport."

Her words fell upon the ears of an elegantly dressed gentleman with raven hair who was climbing the hill to stand by her side. His well-tailored suit was cut in the style of a bygone era, and was the same ebony deepness of the woman's dress. Whereas hers was trimmed in white, he was trimmed in a light gray, almost silver, crushed velvet. They stood together, taking in the view.

"Are the preparations nearly complete, my love?" The woman asked, turning to face the man. Her elegantly shaped hand reached forward to lightly cup his face. He turned his chin towards his shoulder, pressing his pale cheek against the blackness of her glove.

"Nearly, my queen. Leona and Ivor have checked in recently. They have spirited away the necessary tools for our first segment of our plan. Soon, we will be able to use them as needed." He smiled at the woman, who returned it with brilliantly white teeth.

"Good. This _academy_ ," she spat the word, "is an eyesore. So is this surrounding kingdom. I will have my night, and all its terror, reign supreme once more. With you by my side, my love, it is all I have ever wanted." She withdrew her hand and turned to face the spire once more. "I wish to be there when it happens. I want to see the terror on the poor children's faces when the place they thought was safe crumbles around them. I have been removed from the world for so long, but I know the arrogance of man when I see it."

"Will you be cautious while you are there? You are not at your full strength, and I do not wish to rule a broken world without you." The man's voice expressed a slight edge of concern, and he stepped forward to lightly wrap an arm around the woman's waist. She slightly melted into the touch, adjusting her parasol to sit over her other shoulder so as not to accidentally strike him in the face.

"Erebus, my love, you worry too much." She laughed lightly, a sound like wind chimes. "I shall be perfectly safe. What of the other ten of my stars? Are they positioned for their turn?" Erebus nodded, his expression serene. "Yes. Each is waiting and ready for their turn in orbit. Aludra is practically begging to press the button herself."

"For my virgin, she is quite bloodthirsty. Quite the opposite of her starsake." The woman straightened, then started walking down the hill. Erebus followed, matching her step for step. He stopped for a moment, then checked a small Scroll in his pocket. "Leona and Ivor have made it home safely. They await your inspection and approval."

"You have adapted to modern technologies far faster than I, my love. I doubt I will ever understand such complicated and meaningless devices." She commented blithely as they walked. "Well, if you would apply yourself, my Nyx, you would understand them." Erebus bantered back. She stuck her tongue out at him, then she stopped. The faint soft whirring approached them.

They continued walking to a small clearing nearby, where a smaller version of a Bullhead was waiting. A slight girl with ocean blue hair was waiting for them, arranging her soft gray and blue skirts neatly. Upon their approach, she spread her skirts wide, curtseying in a practiced motion. Her soft green eyes remained fixed upon the ground as she greeted them. "Lady Nyx, Lord Erebus."

Nyx reached forward and rested it gently atop the soft fine hair of the girl's head. "Thank you for coming, Assane. You do well to keep your eyes down. I would hate to remove them from you." Nyx peeled back her lips in a travesty of a smile.

If Assane felt any fear, she didn't show it. She kept her eyes firmly focused on the ground, only moving once Nyx had removed her hand. She curtsied even lower, then rose and went to the cockpit of the Bullhead. Erebus held open the door of the Bullhead, and offered his hand to Nyx. "Allow me to help you in, my lady. " She lightly took it and accepted his assistance.

The Bullhead's interior was much different from its normal militant counterparts. It had a soft velvet couch installed again the back wall, and the wallstraps one usually held to maintain an upright position had been removed. The inner walls had been covered in a thick velvet painted a deep blue, and had been skillfully detailed to closely resemble a night sky. A delicate table made of wrought iron and glass sat on the right side of the couch, a small bucket containing an iced bottle and two champagne flutes. As Nyx gracefully settled on the couch, Erebus climbed in and closed the door. The whirring of the Bullhead's propellers was muted by the velvet, so it made conversation easy. Erebus proceeded to go to the table and pull the bottle out of the ice bucket. Setting it down on the table, he noticed that the flutes hardly moved at all while they were on the table. "Assane has learned to pilot this smoothly it seem."

"Yes, it seems so. My stars are far more technologically advanced than I. It bothers me some." Nyx remarked as she accepted the flute from Erebus. It was filled with a brilliant gold liquid that gave off a faint smell of honey. She sipped it lightly, and sighing, relaxed against the soft upholstery. "It has been a long time since I have tasted this. Even in my darkest of slumbers, I could still remember its sweetness. Even after all these long years, ambrosia has never lost its savor."

Erebus sat down elegantly next to her and sipped from his own glass. "Our stars were diligent whilst you slept. They adapted to the ever-changing world so that you would never lose your edge. Will you be learning the skills later?" Nyx laughed again, the same eerie tinkling sound. "I'm sure a light sample of their ichor will provide me with all the teaching I will need."

The flight was seemingly a short one, and they landed on a pad near a warehouse on the far end of Vale, almost bordering on Vacuo. As they disembarked the ship, Nyx paused and turned her face towards the sands, inhaling. "Do you smell that, my love?" Erebus remained silent, watching her. Nyx inhaled one more time, taking in as much as she could. The dry desert wind swept against her, rustling her dress and hair far more than the slight breezes of Vale. The sun seemed almost harsher here, shining down on the spit of land that was a strange juxtaposition of green forestry and burning sand. "That is the smell of desolation. It is the fragrant perfume of the meaningless struggle humans wage against a foe they cannot hope to best. Their tears and sweat add to the bouquet, does it not? I wish I could bottle it and wear it. There is nothing more wonderful than watching the human spirit be crushed under the ever-turning wheels of time while they believe the lie eternal that they will survive."

Turning, she linked her arm through Erebus', and they proceeded to the warehouse. "Now, show me the bottled destruction my stars have stolen for me."


	5. Let Us Burn

Modriot was starting to get irritated. Was it some kind of cosmic lesson that had brought her back to Beacon? In another timeline, she was dead, having bled out on the desert floor of Vacuo at the hands of Yang Xiao Long. Now she was here, leading a team in the very school she had put to the torch. It smacked of irony, and it was nothing short of aggravating.

Both Aiden and Jacen had insisted upon breakfast, so the four of them were walking from the dormitories to the cafeteria. Beacon was a large boarding school, so it could be a lengthy walk to get from place to place. They were all surprisingly quiet, perhaps the deep grayness of the morning had brought on a sense of somberness. There was a sense of unease in the air, and it was close to the point of suffocation.

Jacen stopped, his face turned upward and his eyes closed, as it he was listening for something. The rest of the group stopped and looked at him, no one wanting to be the one to break the silence. Finally, Aiden spoke up. "Um, are you okay over there?"

Jacen's eyes popped open wide, then he grabbed Aiden's sleeve and started pulling. "We have to move! Do you hear that whistling?" There was a look of utter terror on his face as he started to run in an angle away from the cafeteria and up past the dormitories. "There's an entrance to an underground garage, but we need to move quickly!" Modriot listened hard, then started following Jacen, the whistling starting to become much more audible. Mallaithe kept pace with Modriot, something akin to growing terror on her face.

They sped like bullets, Jacen leading the pack. Some other students stared at them curiously as they streaked by, but some of them starting looking towards the sky. Suddenly, a loud alarm blared across the courtyard, accompanied by Professor Ozpin's voice. "Students, please evacuate to lower ground. I repeat, please evacuate to. . ." His voice was cut off as something smashed into the center spire of Beacon.

There was a deafening explosion as all four of them were thrown back. Fragments rained down above them, and more explosions were heard in the distance, accompanied by screams from the township. There was a loud whistle in the sky, followed by another earthquaking detonation. The school was burning, and students were dying. There were already bodies trapped under rubble and half scorched bodies trying to crawl their way out from remnants of the center spire. Shards of luminescent green glass flew like daggers from the heavens, crashing into flesh and stone like poisoned icicles. Jacen looked up from his position on his stomach, dazed and his vision blurry. He fuzzily noticed that a shard was coming for him, its point glittering wickedly with light caught from the fires that had sprung up all around. Before he could react, a dark shape moved in front of him and leapt up, spinning in the air and kicking it out the way. The form landed, then turned and offered him a hand to help him to his feet. "Get up, douchebag. We don't have time for this." Aiden's voice accompanied the hand, the sting of the words lessened by the teasing tone. Jacen took it, and hauled himself to his feet, shaking his head to clear it. "You hit your head, so don't try nothing stupid immediately, 'kay?"

Looking around, Jacen saw Modriot and Mallaithe not too far away. Modriot was on her knees, trying to desperately get a breath of air in her lungs. Mallaithe had her daggers drawn and was trying to keep any fallout from striking Modriot. Fear kept flicking across the petite girl's face, but she kept determinedly trying to swallow it, trying to emulate the Huntress she wanted to be. Modriot finally got to her feet, swaying slightly. She was looking better, but there was a strange look on her face, like the cross between annoyance and delight. A sizeable chunk of debris came flying at her, and Modriot swatted it away from her like it was nothing more than a fly. "MGMA, gather to me!" She commanded imperiously.

Aiden and Jacen came over to them, making sure that they were safe from any more flying masonry. The spire was crumbling, but the fires were spreading to the Emerald Forests beyond the school, and the baying of Beowulves were raising into a hellish crescendo amidst the screams of the humans. Suddenly, with eerie clarity, a voice was laughing. All of them looked up, and noticed the amidst the wreckage of the base of the spire, there was a darkly dressed woman with her arms out, head thrown back to the darkening skies. Her palms were glowing with a black light, and the clouds above her were starting to move, starting to come and coalesce into a thick blanket of obscurity. Her laugh seemed to hold the cry of the Grimm and the lament of the students. "This school shall be razed, and I will dance in its ashes!" She shrieked wildly, her words accompanied by manic laughter. Her long inky hair waved around her face like it was alive, likening her to a Gorgon. A man stood next to her, watching the despair with a pleased expression. Abruptly, it morphed into sheer delight as dark shapes starting filling the courtyard.

Grimm was starting to gather at the school, and ravaging the corpses of the dead and the panicking living. Nevermore descended as desolation from the skies, carrying off the still-shrieking living before dropping them off the cliffside. Ursai and Beowolves charged those who were attempting to form a frontline defense, tearing holes in their ranks. Some students were holding their own, fighting back with a steely determination. Jacen recognized the newly formed CBLT from initiation, fighting in an outward facing circle, trusting the others to watch their backs. Some students were trying to clear teammates, both living and dead, from the rubble while others fought to protect them.

Unexpectedly, a flash of red and white flicked in front of the members of MGMA. There, before them, stood two women. One with short red and black hair, shielded in a cloak and mantle, wielding a massive scythe. The other with a long, impossibly white ponytail on the side of her head and a snowflake on the back of her jacket, holding a delicate looking rapier. They stood their ground against the wailing madwoman, who was facing them now and pointing to them. "Who are you?!" She demanded. "You and those whelps behind you that you assume you can protect?!"

The one in the cloak turned and smiled at the students behind her, flashing brilliantly silver eyes. She turned back to the woman and answered in a strong voice "I am Ruby Rose of team RWBY, and this is Weiss Schnee, my partner. If you don't halt your attack, I won't be responsible for what happens next." The woman in white, Weiss Schnee, turned to face the students and motioned for them to answer. She also turned back and fixed the woman with a steely gaze. Modriot stiffened her spine and spoke out in ringing tones, conveying supreme authority. Around her, her teammates took up fighting positions; Jacen had materialized Starduster in his hands as his massive greatsword, Mallaithe with Veil and Blind in her hands, Aiden with his twin pistols, Crosshairs, held at the ready. "We are team MGMA, and if you don't stop it now, bitch, you'll get everything that's coming to you."

The woman blinked at the harsh answer, then laughed again. Her eyes that focused on Modriot were wild and dark as sin. "You'll be fun to play with, if you survive. But if you're bent on being magma, then I guess I'll just have to let you burn!" Two figures seemed to materialize next to her and the man, weapons ready.

The woman's manic screeching of "kill them!" rose into the air, accompanied by the howling of Beowulves and the crashing of steel. It would soon provide the soundtrack to the ensuing battle.


	6. To The Roses

The two figures that had struck forward turned out to be a girl and a boy. The girl was a lean specimen with wild tawny hair that stuck out in all directions. She has the ears of lion sticking out from her mane, and surprisingly, a set of thin whiskers coming from her face. She was dressed in hot reds and oranges, looking more like a living flame. On her hands were two gauntlets, completely encasing her hands in metal. The tips of the fingers tapered out into long points that glittered wickedly in the firelight, and she held her hands outwards in a ready stance, her lips drawn back in a cruel smile to reveal pointed fangs. The man next to her did not look so ready for battle as she was, but he still carried a large curved bow and a quiver slung around his hip. The arrow that he drew and nocked looked more like the branch of a juvenile tree and would have been more suited towards skewering a whole boar. His eyes were ice blue and just as cold, carefully scanning the six combatants in from of him. He was dressed in hunting leathers, and his silvery hair was slicked back, the tips of it brushing his ears and his neck. His large spearlike arrow was pointed at Weiss, who in turn, had taken a defensive position with her delicate rapier Myrtenaster.

There was a screech of metal and Weiss shot forward, the length of Myrtenaster inscribed with glistening white sigils. She flicked the blade down in a punishing swipe, and a arc of flame exploded from the tip of the blade. It sailed straight for the archer, who didn't even move. The lion girl jumped in front of him and forward, her iron claws out to meet the flames. She swiped through them like they were nothing more than water, then landed in a forward roll. She landed on her knees in a defensive kneel before jetting forward, claws reaching for Weiss. Weiss leapt up and turned in midair, her booted feet toward the sky. A white glyph appeared under her boots and she pressed against it before using it as a platform to send her spiraling down, Myrtenaster held out like a long quill. She came to earth with another screech of metal, nearing skewering the lion girl. The archer came forward, one of his long arrows held like a spear in his hands.

Ruby sped past him, Crescent Rose in her hands and the blade angled like a glaive. She struck him on her journey past him, knocking him back a few feet. He skidded past, his boots seeking purchase against the ground. He dug the tip of the spear into the earth, also helping to stop his motion. He pulled it out and held it up, knowing better than to charge her. He was waiting for her to come to him. Ruby held Crescent Rose in front of her, and offered him a small smile, her silver eyes reflecting the fire like mirrors. Suddenly, she flourished her scythe and buried the tip into the ground. She sank lower until one of her knees touched the ground and the handle was braced against her shoulder. Gunshots rang out as she kept her aim on the archer, the high caliber bullets streaking through the air. He held his own, using the large broadhead point to block the bullets and redirect them elsewhere. He advanced towards her, the shaft whirling like a maelstrom. Ruby marked his progression and then ripped Crescent Rose from the ground, charging him. She held the scythe perpendicular to her body and used her speed to send herself into at him like a bladed hurricane. He lashed out with the shaft, timing it just right so that the butt end of the spear reached into the fury and struck her squarely in the forehead.

Ruby stumbled from the sudden impact, losing her grip on Crescent Rose and tripping over the large weapon. She came to the ground, landing with a resounding thud. Crescent Rose skittered away from her, and she laid on the earth, a dazed expression chasing across her features. The archer came to her, the broadhead held down like he meant to drive the point into her flesh. Abruptly, Ruby lashed out with her foot, knocking him down with a sweep kick to his ankles. He fell unceremoniously, landing in a sprawled heap. Ruby tried to get up to grab Crescent Rose, but the archer grabbed her ankle and pulled, causing her tumble back down. He drew a long hunting knife from his waist belt, and tried to bring it down cruelly on her face. Ruby lunged to her left, avoiding the blade. Cupping her hand, she brought harshly against the archer's head, directly over his ear. The sudden impact knocked his head sideways, and his grip loosened. Ruby took this chance to ball her fist and crack him across the face, directly on the bridge of his nose.

His nose spurted crimson blood like a broken faucet, staining and blending into her cape. She kicked upwards with her other foot, connecting squarely in his diaphragm. He grunted, but made no indication that he was going to let go. Instead, he mustered some strength and heaved, flipping Ruby onto her stomach. His knife flashed once in the light, then Ruby screamed, a sound like a wounded animal. Blood was coming from her calf where he had hamstrung her. She tried to crawl away, her Aura surrounding her and flaring red. She unsteadily got to her feet, swaying. The archer stood as well, facing her with his knife held high, the blade covered in her blood. He lunged at her, but he was knocked backwards as Weiss came at him, both boots connecting with his face. She landed in a graceful manner, but froze as she turned around to face Ruby.

Ruby's head was being held by the lion girl, who had been unnoticed most of the battle. She smiled wickedly, taking in Weiss' disbelief. Ruby had extended out her arm, reaching out her hand towards Weiss, her silver eyes full of tears. In that moment, time stood still and the sound of Ruby's neck snapping seemed to fill the air with a hellish clarity.

Weiss' screaming went to the middle of Modriot's head and rang there with the clarion brazenness of a brass bell. It seemed like it didn't even pass through her eardrums, but had passed through bone and blood and brain matter. All she and the rest of her team could do was just watch as the lion girl stepped away from Ruby's corpse and watch her body fall into a crumpled heap, her cloak swathing her. Weiss staggered over to her and dropped to her knees, Myrtenaster clattering to the ground next to her. She gathered Ruby into her arms and held her close, weeping into the girl's body. Ruby's silver eyes, already mirrorlike in life, were glazed and reflective in death, staring doll-like into the distance. Her body slightly shook as Weiss held her, Weiss' own body racked with sobs that seemed to be dredged from the very bottom of her soul.

The archer stayed silent, but the lion girl laughed madly, her laughter mixed with Weiss' sobs, providing another layer in the already eerie symphony of civilian screams and Grimm howls. She stood over Weiss, then kicked her in the head, knocking her backwards and Ruby from her arms. Weiss crawled forward, trying to collect Ruby again. The lion girl kicked her in the head again, knocking her further back. A rivulet of blood blossomed on Weiss' forehead, trailing over her left eye and obscuring her scar.

"Stop it!" Mallaithe screamed at the girl, her voice flushed with anger. She swiftly unhooked a knife from her belt and flung it at the lion girl, who caught it. "What's this sorry excuse for a weapon?" she asked scathingly, holding it up to inspect it. Mallaithe smiled viciously, an expression that looked completely alien on her face. She reached for her wrist and tapped on her watch, and the knife exploded in the lion girl's grasp.

Next to Mallaithe, Aiden burst out laughing. The cloud of smoke cleared from around the lion girl's head, and her face was nearly purple with rage and studded with shards of ceramic. "I will kill you for that, Spook!" She screamed at Mallaithe, one clawed finger pointing at her. Modriot watched as Mallaithe's face convulsed into that vicious smile again. "I am the Spook Monster, and I will give you the nightmares that you deserve." The lion girl charged forward, her voice rising to a roar. Jacen and Aiden came to stand in front of Mallaithe, waiting. "You want her, you have to go though us first." Jacen said, gripping the hilt of Starduster in anticipation.

The four of them scattered, and the lion girl skidded to a halt in the empty clearing. She looked around, screaming hoarsely. "Come out, you cowards! I want to eat your hearts!" She zeroed in on Aiden, who stood opposing her, Crossfire in his hands. He smiled invitingly at her, then remarked absentmindedly as he put on his gas mask. "You know, you would be so much more pretty if you would just stop screaming."

Jacen stood back to back with Aiden, Starduster hefted across one shoulder. The archer was facing him, his nose still bleeding lightly. His eyes looked like flecks of ice set in his face, and he had pulled another of his arrows of his quiver and held it in his other hand, dual wielding with an alarming proficiency. "Let's see how you do against someone more of your own size. Come at me, bro!" Jacen smacked his free hand against his chest, his chin tilted up as he stared his challenge to his opponent. The archer smiled back thinly, then motioned his own "come at me" with his arrows.

Modriot has disappeared, but she knew what she was meant to do. She knew that none of her teammates were physically strong enough to tangle with the madwoman who was still shrieking to the skies. She watched from her vantage point as Mallaithe stepped up and challenged the man who was the woman's safeguard, but he didn't even acknowledge her presence. Instead, he had gone and linked hands with the woman and the darkness started to grow, completely obscuring the sky and was starting to swallow the light thrown by the fire. Mallaithe knew better than to attack the pair of them together. Instead, she made her way to Weiss' sobbing form, who was cradling Ruby's body to her chest and rocking back and forth in her grief. She was trying to get Weiss to stand and move.

Modriot crept closer and analyzed her targets. Obviously, it was the woman who seemed to be the most important, and she would be the one who needed to feel the bite of death. The man didn't seem to be that much of threat, but that could easily be a front. She knew that it was a bad idea to write off every well-dressed dandy as a weakling or an ornament. He was probably just as deadly as the woman in his own right. She didn't think that she needed her weaponry yet, but this was going to be a fight that would require her other arm. Gathering her concentration, she focused. She could feel the magic uncoil in her stomach like a dormant dragon, rising from its sleep. It slithered along her body like poisoned water, until it pooled at the stump of her missing arm. It twisted and turned and built on itself until there was fully formed arm of dark luminescent magic where there used to be none. She flexed her fingers experimentally, and then took a deep breath. This was going to be a defining moment, she just knew it.


	7. Contents Under Pressure

Blake's ears twitched underneath her bow, and she hurried over to where Yang was herding panicking students into Bullheads. The fiery blonde was the only thing that could cut through their clouds of terror and actually get them to listening. Granted, her method was also scaring the poor kids shitless, but she would rather them be scared little sheep as opposed to them being scared and aimlessly milling about where they could get hurt by the fires or by stray Grimm looking for an easy meal. Besides, the sooner they got on the Bullheads the better, because the pure concentrated smell of their fear would be attracting packs from miles around. This was an absolutely horrid situation for them to be in, and they needed to get the civilians out as soon as possible. While these babies were training to be Huntsmen and Huntresses, they had not graduated and taken their oaths. They were still considered civilians.

Blake placed a hand on Yang's shoulder and pulled on it slightly, trying to get the brawler's attention. She turned her head in slight acknowledgment, and Blake said "It's Weiss. Something's happened." A thundercloud passed over Yang's face, and she gave civilian duties to a nearby Russel Thrush, who was here with the rest of team CRDL who had been assigned to detain and destroy Grimm alongside JNPR. The mohawked boy nodded, and kept the students moving while he watched the perimeter with his twin blades drawn.

They both sped across the expansive courtyard to the remains of the dormitories. Blake twitched her ears again, listening for Weiss. Her screaming was done, but she was sobbing. Blake involuntarily flinched at the sound, her mind racing and already imagining the worst. Yang stopped next to Blake and asked in a concerned voice "Blake, what's wrong?" Blake shook her head and motioned to keep going. They started again and raced past the dormitories, hearing the sounds of battle getting louder.

They exploded onto the scene, and Blake felt her knees go weak at the sight of Weiss cradling Ruby's lifeless body in her arms like an infant. A smaller girl, obviously a first year student was trying to get Weiss and her morbid cargo to move out of the warzone. Two boys, Blake surmised them to be her teammates, were engaging two other figures in combat, each doing well on their own. All the color in Yang's face drained out until she was left as pale as a sheet of paper. She closed her eye, then when they opened, they were a blazing scarlet to match the heart of Hell. She stepped away and screamed, loud and long, like her heart was being torn out by the roots. Blake flinched at the raw sound as it burned its way into her memory. It was so full of pain and anger that she was sure that she would never forget it. Yang brought her fists together, and she exploded in that moment, a large crater forming where she was standing. Her long blonde hair was positively flaming, adding more eerie light to the scene. Her eyes zeroed in on the man and woman who were standing nearby, hands linked and covered in writhing shadows.

Yang rocketed towards the pair, the scream still ripping itself from her vocal cords. As she neared them, her arm cocked back and ready to strike, the man loosened his hands from the woman and stood to face Yang. He appeared to show no fear, but instead smiled in an eager manner. Blake didn't like the way the shadows still writhed around his hands and down his body like they were snakes. Darkness was not sentient, and it was not supposed to move like it had a mind of its own. She knelt and placed a hand on Weiss' shoulder, letting her know that there was someone there to share in her grief. Weiss looked up at Blake, her icy blue eyes broken and full of tears. She buried her face in Ruby's chest and screamed at her "I wanted to marry you, dolt! Why did you have to be so reckless?!"

The lamenting venom in Weiss' voice was not surprising to Blake. The two had been tentative lovers in their last year of schooling, and had developed into something beautiful and sincere since they became fully fledged Huntresses. Yang had been making jokes to Blake in private that it was only a matter of time until one asked the other to marry them. "You killed my sister!" Yang screamed, leaping forward, any semblance of rational thought or sanity gone. Blake knew by the look on her face that Yang had entered into a killing frenzy like a shark that had scented blood in the water. The loss of Ruby was too much for her, and if she wasn't careful, she was liable to drive herself insane from the grief and anger. Before Blake could open her mouth to warn her, Yang was already in motion. Blake was completely helpless; with Yang being this far gone in her anger, she would not be able to assist Yang without being in danger of being attacked herself. All she could really do was remain with Weiss and remove both her and Ruby's body off the field of battle.

Yang came right at the man, her hair streaking out behind her like the tail of a comet. Her punch was met with a forearm block, and the resounding strike was met with an equally loud boom that followed. The man brought his face close to Yang's, and smiled. "Look at this yellow beauty. But how long until the flames burn out?" She gritted her teeth and spat back in his face "Long enough to burn you to a shell!"

They both leapt backwards, and gave each other a brief onceover before Yang cocked each of Ember Celica and came forward again, arms ready to destroy. The man adeptly danced to the side and let Yang crash headlong into a stone pillar. He lightly brushed some of the residual dust off the shoulder of his suit while he watched Yang pull herself from the wreckage. She stood there and fired off shot after shot at the man, who artfully dodged each one and then brought his hand to his mouth, covering a slight yawn. "If you are trying to impress me, little sun, you are not. I am simply waiting for you to burn out."

"The greatest thing about the sun is that it never burns out!" Yang said, smiling triumphantly. She stood straight, then barreled straight at him. Just as she approached, he leapt up gracefully and came down with his hands on her shoulders. He came to his feet behind her, back to back, and her charge was brought up short as a slight length of wire that had been looped around her neck pulled tight. Her hands went to it, and she pulled at it, trying to loosen it. Then man behind her swiveled to face her and added another length of wire around her neck, pulling tighter. Yang was starting to make noises, her fingers scrabbling for purchase against the slim wire burrowing itself into her skin. The man added another length and kept pulling. "It seems your aura cannot help when I am depriving you of air. How does it feel to have your windpipe crushed?"

Yang drove an elbow into the man's stomach in a last ditch effort to get him to loosen his grip. He took the blow with a light grunt and a laugh. "I applaud your efforts, little sun, but you will be encompassed in the darkness before this is over. Every light eventually flickers and dies." He gave another pull, and Yang's knees gave out. The only thing holding her up was the loops of wire around her neck and the strength of the man pulling. Soon, the red in her eyes faded back into her usual lilac, and then they faded further until resembled a lavender stained mirror. The man laid her down and removed the wire from her neck. He then gathered her hair at the base of her neck, and then removed a small knife from his belt. With one swift motion, he pulled the knife up and severed the long blonde strands. Tying them off into a loose knot, he stowed them in his back pocket before sheathing his knife. Looking down on her, he knelt and gently kissed the lips of Yang's corpse. "Every fire is consumed by night, and yours was delicious."

Then he rose and kicked her in the face before turning on his heel to return on his dark lover who was still calling down the darkness.


	8. Put Your Venom In Me

Jacen gritted his teeth as he stared down at the man in front of him, who in turn was smiling back with the cruel twist of his lips that only a practiced killer could perfect. He could feel a burning in his chest, but he swallowed it down. He didn't need the change, not now. It would be extremely unwise to reveal that when it would not work in his favor. Jacen knew better than to charge the archer after watching the battle with Ruby. It ended in the worst possible way for her, and he was going to avoid doing so in any way, shape, or form. The man was obviously a hunter, so he was going to have more weapons on him that were visible, disregarding all the spearlike arrows in his quivers.

Taking a deep breath, Starduster sifted in his hands to its scouting rifle form and then cracked the silence between them, the bullets racing their way to the archer. Doing as he had done before, the arched used the broad arrowheads to deflect the arrows. This proved to Jacen that the best course of action was going to be close quarters combat. He wanted to check his back so he could make sure that the murderous lion girl wasn't behind him, but he placed his faith in that his teammates wouldn't let him get ambushed. This was confirmed by the hollow sound of Aiden's laughter through his mask on his far left and the growls of frustration that was obviously coming from the lion.

Jacen knew that Modriot was going to somewhere high up; she liked to have the battlefield advantage, and she could get that advantage by being high and seeing everything. No one could really sneak up on her, and she could get the drop on her targets. He hoped that Mallaithe was staying out of the line of fire; she was the smallest and kind of the weakest of the group. Besides, she had pissed off that lion and apparently that very same lion was going to tear her apart. He didn't like the smile that had blossomed across her face when she was called the Spook Monster. That was a creature that supposedly lurked under beds and in closets and terrorized bad children with nightmares of the best quality. Jacen knew that it was used to scare children into behaving, but it was still unnerving to think that maybe it really existed, even if it was only in the deep recesses in one's mind. Mallaithe would obviously use that comparison to her advantage when the time came.

He brought the buttstock of Starduster up just in time to protect his face from the flung knife that left the archer's fingers and buried itself in the hard wood. It still vibrated quite a lot as the knife buried itself at least three inches. Jacen pulled the knife from the stock and held it up, smirking. "Aw, thanks for the gift, honey. I didn't bring anything for you, though. Now I feel bad." The archer rolled his eyes at Jacen's comment, and then proceeded to come forward, both his spears held outward, arrowheads held in line with Jacen's chest. Starduster sifted once again into its broadsword form, and he held the blade perpendicular to his chest, so that the arrowheads came hard against the wide blade, splintering away from the wood of the shaft and dropping to the ground. Jacen swept the sword in a wide arc, effectively disarming his opponent. He hissed in through his teeth as the archer swiftly drew another knife and plunged into his side. He knew that he hadn't hit anything vital, but it still hurt like bloody hell. Gritting his teeth, Jacen yanked himself sideways, unsheathing the knife from his side and twitched the sword sideways, cutting dangerously close to the archer's head. He knew it too, because he jumped backwards, whipping his bow from around his shoulder and drawing an arrow in the same motion. Nocking it swiftly, he drew back to his cheek and aimed. Jacen swore under his breath, then charged, knowing that he would have to watch carefully and wait until the last moment to avoid the arrow. Suddenly, the arrow loosely came from the bow as the archer's hand holding the bow dropped and he cursed loudly. There had been a gunshot, and the slight glint of metal from a high place told Jacen that it had been Modriot who intervened, her pistol smoking in her hands.

Jacen took the opportunity to bull into his opponent, driving the point of his shoulder into his stomach and hefted upwards, taking the archer upwards and back. Jacen was aiming to pin him to a surface where he could get the advantage of pinned hand to hand combat. The arched slammed into a broad tree, and the cracking sound that followed didn't really sound like a good one to Jacen. His spine wasn't broken, but it was definitely voicing its displeasure at the pressure and force. Jacen took that moment to sift Starduster away and to grab the knife that he had stashed in his boot. He then plunged it into the archer's side, twisting it deeper. "Allow me to return the gift you gave me. It didn't really suit me the way it does you." The archer's icy eyes held steel as he stared back at Jacen, his unwavering stare never breaking as the blade pierced deeper and deeper, severing flesh and nerves. Jacen had to hand it to him, it took some serious cojones to face down a man who seemed like he was determined to skewer slowly with your own blade.

Jacen grunted as he was kicked hard in the ribs, presumably from the steel toed boots that the archer was wearing. His grip did not loosen on the archer's shirt front, and he drove the knife deeper, feeling it meet opposition against bone. The blade had gone down at an angle, near his hip, and it must have hit his hipbone. The archer was even kicking him with the leg on the side that had been stabbed. It really must be hurting like a bitch, Jacen decided.

Suddenly, the booted foot hit a little too close to home. It got him squarely on the inside of his thigh, right near his groin. The pain was much more this time, and he felt his grip loosen considerably. The archer then brought his now free right arm up and slapped Jacen across the ear, mimicking what Ruby had done to him. Black spots danced across his vision and a brass bell rang in his head. Letting go, he backed away a few steps and shook his head, trying to clear it. He was unable to block the archer's downward strike over his head, breaking his spearlike arrow in half over his skull.

Jacen went down on all fours, momentarily blacking out. He could feel his Aura surging around him, coating him in a glistening jacket of blue and green. It was working to take away to pain of the strike, but all Jacen could feel in his heart was primordial rage, building deep in his chest like a raging bonfire. It was all he could do not to let it grow into an all-consuming inferno. He allowed himself a small and vicious smile. How disgustingly apt it was that he had been placed on a team whose initials formed the name of the most primal destructive fire throughout all history. The smile became gritted teeth as there was a path of flames was carved down his back, along his spine. He felt a grunt of pain burrow over his tongue and through his teeth. He got to his feet, swaying slightly and felt something manic cross his face.

He focused his Aura, spreading it along his spine like river water. It glided along his spinal column and coalesced there, seeping into his back and attaching to the skin. He shuddered as its seemingly icy touch soaked in every ounce of heat his flaming core could offer. He faced the archer, who was looking at him with a mix of puzzlement and slight irritation on his face. So far, Jacen's opponent hadn't said a word to him, and that was perfectly fine to Jacen. He didn't really care if he was as mute as a stone or if he sang like a bird; he was going to be vanquished.

There was a wail from back behind him, a high pitched shrieking that sounded like a summoning. The archer's head jerked up and suddenly, he breezed past Jacen, obviously done with the fight and answering the call. Before Jacen could follow him, his entire line of vision went black. No, he hadn't been struck into unconsciousness, but it was if his vision had suddenly failed him; like he had been in a brightly lit room and a power outage had struck, plunging him into darkness. He felt the Dust Crystal in his chest stir, and his vision suddenly sharpened, trying to allow him to see. However, this sudden darkness felt too absolute, too _living_ to pierced by something as meager as sight.

He turned his head, trying desperately to get his bearings in the all-consuming darkness. He felt like he had been devoured, and that the darkness was sinking somehow living tentacles into him and pumping him full of unspeakable poison. _Put your venom in me_ , Jacen thought, his own inner voice scathing.

There, off to his right, was a small flickering. Jacen thought his eyes were playing tricks on him, but his brain realized that the thing responsible for the light was Aiden. His Semblance was indispensible in this oppressive blackness. Taking a deep breath, Jacen made his way towards the flickering, watching as it steadily grew larger. Aiden must be utilizing the still-living flames around him, using the fires to strengthen his own flame to cast light.

He flinched as something cold brushed against his arm, and a hand clamped over his wrist. He immediately drew his unhindered hand back, fingers balled into a fist, when a familiar voice told him "Don't strike me. I'm here to help you." The voice belonged to Mallaithe, who appeared to have her own small flame in her hands. The flame appeared watery, and Jacen understood that she did not actually hold a flame, but merely was reflecting the light in a small orb of water that was levitating above her slightly cupped hand. The closer she got to the source of her light, the flame would stretch longer in her orb, the reflection distorting. It would be the closest thing they could have as a compass in this void.

Jacen relaxed his hand and lowered it. "What are you doing here? Weren't you with Weiss?"

"They made it to the Bullhead before the darkness fell. Their Faunus companion had taken them back, and I stayed here. I thought I could help." Something pressed into his hand, and he recognized it as leather. It must have been one of the ribbon tails from Mallaithe's coat. There was a pulling, like she had started walking, and all he could do was follow her blindly into the dark, her watery compass leading them forward. Soon, they were nearing Aiden, who seemed to be wreathed in the brilliant flames. Jacen let go of the ribbon tail, and walked past her, being able to see. Mallaithe backtracked a bit, where she was still in the darkness. She wouldn't come near Aiden or the living flames he commanded.

Modriot seemed to materialize from the darkness, her missing arm replaced by one made from a deep pulsing magic that seemed to almost throw its own ethereal light. The darkness was becoming almost oppressive, and it was at this juncture, she knew that they were faced with only one option. "Jacen, get them back to the Bullhead. We need to move, right now."

Aiden led the way, glowing brightly in the void. Jacen came behind him, staying back a pace from the oppressive hear. Mallaithe trailed behind him, trying to maintain a distance. Modriot brought up the read, and they picked their way to the landing pad where one last Bullhead waited, Blake hanging out of the compartment, waiting for them. "Let's go!" She called, anxiety written across her face. Suddenly, the flames up front extinguished as Aiden launched himself into the Bullhead. The rest of his team filed in, and the Bullhead took off, leaving behind the scorching ruins of Beacon behind, Weiss' soft sobs echoing in the stillness.


	9. And We Run

It was ethereal, this encompassing almost-silence. The sound of the Bullhead's rotors was the only thing cutting through it, but even those seemed muted from the darkness. They must have had Faunus pilots, as it was difficult to see. Small lanterns had been hung in the interior, but they gave off a weak light, obviously scrounged for. Every passenger held their tongues, knowing that mere speech could not describe the atrocities that had taken place.

Weiss and Blake refused to stand, instead holding Ruby's body between them, their grief horrifying and beautiful. Their bodies shook in silent sobs, both of them refusing to break the trance. Suddenly, Mallaithe came forward and knelt between Blake and Weiss, a hand on either one, lending her strength to the circle. Aiden followed suit, coming forward to kneel opposite Mallaithe, adding his own. Jacen completed the circle, sandwiched between Aiden and Weiss. Modriot hung back, her fabricated arm gone. Unknown to the circle, their Auras were converging, forming a type of shield around the deceased; crystalline white, that had to belong to Weiss. A thick black, like smoke, emanated from Blake. A softer, thinner Aura surrounded Mallaithe, colored like her mists. Aiden glowed as if he were painted in fire, orange faintly coating him. Jacen faintly sparkled like Dust, swirling blue and green motes. The shield did nothing for the dead, but it unified the living in grief, providing solidarity. A singular wellspring of sadness for the lost Rose.

They seemed to be heading in a northerly way, presumably to Atlas. The Schnee Manor would prove to be a stronghold, and there would be no better place to regroup. Suddenly, Blake broke the silence as she asked "Shouldn't we bury her in Patch? That's where she grew up."

"I will be sure to place a memorial stone. Besides. . . We can't bury her there without Yang. She'd be so lonely."

Silence fell again, and as they traveled, the air got colder. Aiden shivered in his jacket. "Why the hell is it so cold?"

It was Mallaithe that answered. She was not shaking at all, despite bare legs and her thin mistcoat. "Welcome to Atlas. It will only get colder from here."

"Why aren't you cold, Spook?" Aiden asked.

"I am from Northern Atlas. I'm used to it. Also, don't call me that."

"Whatever, Spook. It's just creepy that you aren't cold."

"I'm not cold either. At least. . . not on the outside." Weiss said, rising with Ruby still in her arms. They all came to the open doors, and watched as they descended onto a Bullhead landing pad. The engines ceased whirring as they touched down, and they solemnly disembarked forming a sort of morbid procession with Weiss at the front, and Modriot at the rear, walking in a straight line from the Bullhead to the Schnee Manor. There was a congregation waiting for them at the gates, but Weiss pushed past them, refusing to acknowledge any of them. The crimson-cloaked body in her arms was held steady as she turned and issued orders in a strange tongue.

Turning, she said to MGMA "You will be taken to rooms, with the men in one and the women in the other. I expect you to clean up, and do not make any trouble when someone comes to take your measurements. Food will be brought to your rooms, and you will be expected to rest. Frisch will lead Modriot and Mallaithe, and Pitch will lead Jacen and Aiden. You will be called for in a few hours."

An elderly woman with iron-gray hair gently tapped on both Mallaithe and Modriot, indicating that they should follow her. Similarly, a burly man with a black beard did likewise with Jacen and Aiden. Weiss and Blake headed into the manor, leaving the team to get settled.

The rooms were spotless, almost completely white with shades of underlying blue, and extremely plush bordering on the extreme. The shared rooms were right next to each other, and were separated by an internal door. The girls were in the other room, adjacent to the one the boys were sharing. Jacen flopped down on the bed, sighing heavily as the soft surface cushioned him. Aiden said that he was headed to the shower, and Jacen waved him sleepily off.

The water was hot, steaming the mirror of the large bathroom. Stripping to his skin, Aiden stepped in, his back stiffening as the scalding water worked itself over his flesh. It was reminiscent of the flames that had licked over his skin, and he shuddered as he remembered the remains of Beacon burning behind his eyes. Leaning his forearm against the tiled wall, he rested his forehead against it, feeling the water drumming away the soreness from his muscles and the worry from his mind. This was only a temporary reprieve, and he knew it. They had come here to bury a dead Huntress, and to remember her. It was only sheer luck that had put MGMA with the remnants of RWBY, and he knew very well that it was luck that had saved them from dying at the hands of the lunatics that had put the Academy to the torch. Did the rest of the world know what had taken place?

His eyes closing, he exhaled deeply. If the world was truly going to shit as the unspoken thought said, who knew the next time he would get to shower like this? He also made a note to try that bed in the other room. It would no doubt be a soft as cotton.

"Please, don't fidget. I need this measurement to be as accurate as possible." The soft-spoken young woman with the downcast eyes instructed Aiden. She held a vibrant yellow tape in her hands, and it stood out starkly against Aiden's dusky skin. Her name was Genoveva, and she was the resident seamstress in the Schnee Manor. She had somehow coerced a sleepy Jacen in standing to get his measurements taken, then he drank some steaming soup and fell back into bed. Now it was Aiden's turn, and he was not liking one bit of this.

"Do you have a preference to the cut of the suit, sir?" Genoveva asked, marking the numbers with a practiced hand. Her voice was expectant, and Aiden was not sure how to answer. Cut of the suit? What did that mean?

"Um. . . whatever is the easiest? I don't know what any of that means."

Genoveva looked up, and gave him a soft smile. "I'll make it easy for you. A two-piece suit with a straight fold pocket kerchief. I actually get to make three of those: one for you, one for the other gentleman, and one for the strange lady who refuses a dress. She certainly is odd. At least I can make a dress for the small one with the unsettling eyes. She's like a little doll." Aiden choked back a laugh, startling Genoveva. "I'd hardly call Spook a doll, but if you think so."

The funeral was to be held at sunset, when the light faded into the darkness. They symbolism was not lost on Aiden. The remaining hours passed in a dark blur as he slipped into blissful unconsciousness, the bed just as soft as he had imagined. When he woke, being shaken awake by Jacen, he noticed the two crisp suits that were hung in dress bags, draped neatly over the back of a chair, marked with a J and an A.

Aiden's suit had no tie, for which he was extremely grateful. That slip of fabric caused him the most trouble, and he hated them. He shrugged into the white dress shirt, and did the buttons, mimicking the same actions that Jacen was doing. Neither of them spoke as they got dressed, but they didn't need to. Sliding into the slacks, Aiden did the button, then reached for the suit coat. It was tailored perfectly, and it was clear the Genoveva took pride in her work. It fit trimly along his shoulders and arms, and as he straightened it in the mirror, he noticed the small edge of bright red peeking from the breast pocket. Touching it, he recognized the texture as silk, and knew this to be the splash of red that Weiss had ordered. Jacen's was a band of red that wrapped around his upper left arm. Aiden wondered vaguely where Modriot and Mallaithe would wear their red.

There was a knock at the door separating the two rooms, and then it opened, letting the two girls in. Modriot, as expected, wore a suit similarly cut as the two boys: a single-breasted suit coat with notched lapels. Her dress shirt was black as opposed to white, and she wore a dark red carnation on her lapel. Her gray hair stood out starkly against the deep black of her suit, and it made her eyes stand out from her flesh. Mallaithe stood almost demurely at her side, looking almost like a china doll. She wore a heavy black dress cut in a style of an earlier era, and in place of her normal small top hat, she wore a headband with a red and black feathered fascinator with a small black birdcage veil attached to it. All the black made her large white eyes seem even larger and just as empty.

"Well, I suppose we should go. Don't want to be late, though it's not like it would make it any worse." Modriot said, shrugging. The remaining three of them shared a glance, then followed her out the door and into the hallway. The entire manor was quiet, but whether it was out of respect for the dead or the sheer fact that hardly anyone resided there, Aiden couldn't tell. They filed down and out, somehow finding their way out to a back terrace that provided an excellent view of the horizon and the Atlesian sunset. There was a cleared space, with a raised coffin lying on support beams. The coffin was a deep rich cherrywood, the interior lined in a vibrant red silk with white accents. Ruby lay inside, arms crossed over her chest, eyelids closed over her wide silver irises. She had been made up expertly, so that the bruises on her neck couldn't be seen. She had been changed out of her battle garb into a richly embroidered silken black dress, but she still wore her bright mantle. It sapped all the color from her, artificial and what remained of the natural. Weiss stood in front of the casket, her back to it. She wore a floor length black gown, her pale skin matching Ruby. Her hair had been pulled up in her traditional side ponytail, but she had replaced the icicle comb for a brilliant cluster of roses. Blake stood next to her, her black dress stopping at her knees in a handkerchief hem. She wore a bright yellow sash tied around her waist, embroidered with black sunflowers. She had forgone her bow, leaving her dark cat ears open to the air.

MGMA gathered in a line in front of the casket, standing in order of their team name. Weiss looked at every single one of them, eyes brimming with tears and something that almost looked like hatred behind them. Aiden felt that cold glare rake over every single one of them, and he fought hard not to shiver when it landed on him.

"Thank you for being here with us today." Weiss' imperial voice rang out across the terrace.

"Well, it's not like we had much of a choice." Jacen grumbled under his voice. Mallaithe coughed delicately into one of her hands, and Modriot gave them both an icy stare.

"We are gathered here today to honor two fallen Huntresses, Ruby Rose and Yang Xiao Long. They lost their lives in the line of duty, and we are here to bear witness to their sacrifice." Weiss' voice trembled only a little bit, and her swallow was audible. She turned to face the casket, and leaned down, touching her forehead to Ruby's. "You brought the spring thaw to my frozen heart, and I cannot thank you enough for that. You were the spot of color in my icy world, and now that you are gone, I fear that my world may once again freeze over. But all I can ask is that you rest peacefully, I look forward to seeing you when my time comes, and I hope you will still love like you did." Weiss gently kissed Ruby's head, and took the flower from her hair. She gently placed it between Ruby's hands, and she looked like she was carrying the bloom with her into the afterlife.

Weiss stepped back, and with a shaking hand, she reached up, grasped the handle of the casket, and brought it to a close. Blake had made no moves to say her goodbyes, but she stood by, her hands clasped in front her and her eyes downcast. Instead, she removed her sash from around her waist, and wrapped it around a small Burn Dust crystal. Placing it in front of the casket, Blake pulled a book of matches from inside her dress. Opening it, she removed a match and struck the sulfur against the scratch pad. The head ignited, a brilliant spot of light in the oncoming dusk. Flicking the match, it landed on the sash. There was a sound like a popping coal, and suddenly, the sash was aflame, burning a resistance to the deepening twilight. Weiss and Blake watch the flames with sad eyes, tears threatening to spill. MGMA keep their expressions neutral, sharing in the grief but no taking place in it. They were observers to this tragedy, and they had experienced no personal loss from it.  
As the light flickered down, Blake put her hands over her face and sank to her knees, her whole being heaving in silent sobs. Weiss knelt beside her, hands around her shoulders. White and black hair mixed, provided a study in monochromatic polarity. Aiden fidgeted, not knowing what to do. He had never been to a funeral before, not even for his own family. Death was removed from him, something that he knew about, but had never experienced it firsthand.

Sneaking a glance at his teammates, he noted each of their expressions. Modriot looked slightly uncomfortable and removed, like she wished she wasn't here. She also bore an expression like she wished to say something, but she instead was choosing to remain silent. Jacen had taken his sunglasses from inside his coat and had put them on, hiding his eyes so his expression was indecipherable. Mallaithe was watching the scene playing out before her, and the firelight reflecting in those large eyes were unsettling. There was a knot growing in the pit of Aiden's stomach, and he just wanted to leave. Reaching out, he gently tapped Mallaithe on the shoulder. She turned her head, meeting his eyes. Understanding his unspoken request, she also turned to her left and touched Jacen. He met her eyes from behind his shades, and he nodded. He didn't bother turning to get Modriot's attention, because it was likely she already knew. Turning, Aiden left first, stepping as lightly as he could. He could hear Mallaithe behind him, her skirts whispering. Jacen came next, with Modriot at the rear once again. It wasn't the cold that hastened Aiden's steps, but the heartbroken wail that had finally managed to find its way from Blake's throat.


	10. Star of Sorrow

The wet sea wind whistled outside the stately manor that hugged the Mistrali coast, painting some of the glass with a light coat of brine. This home was miles from any other, and Nyx had watched with great pleasure as her stars had dealt with the previous inhabitants. Leora, still violently angry about her comeuppance at Beacon, had taken a sick pleasure with the removal of the family. Their screams had lasted for two whole days, and when she had finally emerged, Leora had been stained with crimson and an ugly smile.

Her other stars had been slowly returning from their outposts all over the world. The first to return, faithfully as always, was Aquarius, or Assane as she was called now. It was befitting that one who the weakest and the least valuable should come crawling back first, but she had adapted extremely quickly to the new technology, so she was still somewhat of use. Aries and Scorpio, or Sheffield and Scorpan, came next, and it amused Nyx to think that those on the bottom of the food chain were the ones gathering first. Soon, in a group of four, Pisces, Capricorn, Cancer, and Libra gathered to her, and she was pleased that the strong were returning. They had no alternate "mortal" names, so Erebus has given them new ones. Pisces became Aleyn, Capricorn became Kozel, Cancer became Karcana, and Libra became Masato. Nyx hadn't cared what they called themselves, but they were still sickeningly loyal, so she would indulge them with these new names. Gemini and Virgo, Twain and Aludra, had arrived in the dead of night, and the significance was not lost on Nyx. They came during her domain, and it was a sign of submissiveness and acknowledgement.

Nyx was elated that her virgin had returned; Aludra was free and willing with herself, and she could be delightfully experimental when it came to things of a sexual nature. The irony was not lost.

Risha returned by herself, as was in her solitary nature. The bull seldom indulged in company, but when she did, it was usually to serve her own ends. She had come and paid her respects to Nyx and Erebus, then proceeded to claim quarters of her own. She rarely came out of her room, and most of the other Stars preferred to keep it that way. Leora and Ivor, Leo and Sagittarius, had just showed up one day, and they were greeted the most warmly by Nyx. They were the most prized of her Stars. Physically the strongest and fiercely loyal to their mistress, they were like rabid dogs barely restrained on their leashes.

Nyx stretched her arms over her head and sighed. It felt good to be awake after a few millennia of forced slumber. Perhaps she should go out and take the air; it would be good for her, though she needn't worry about her health. She would take a walk by the shoreline once she had taken her last sampling of ichor. She had been waiting until all her Stars had returned to her, then taken in line of strength. Leora and Ivor had been first, and now it was time for her to take from Assane. She had nothing really to offer for her mistress, but it was always delightful to have someone who was completely at your mercy. She didn't know why she kept Assane in all honesty, as she was nothing more than a pet. Perhaps it was time for Aquarius to have a new vessel.

Moving away from the window, Nyx absentmindedly threaded her fingers through her inky tresses and pulled them through, combing the wayward strands. Despite her regality in all things, her hair often refused to behave in any sense, and it drove her to her wit's end. Erebus took great pleasure in brushing it when they shared a private moment between them, and it was something she greatly enjoyed. She came to a stairwell and stood there, noticing the sun that shone through the slanted windows. Contrary to popular belief, she did not hate the day or the light. It was necessary in order for life to thrive on this rock, and if she truly caused nighttime eternal to fall, it would bring the cold with it, and nothing can grow within it. Life would wither and die, and it would not be satisfying to rule over a broken and dying kingdom.

Descending the stairs, her skirts whispering against them, she continued onto the main level of the house. Tucked back into one of the side rooms, was a control room. It had been outfitted with the highest technology that could be bought or stolen, and it allowed Nyx the ability to see what her havoc was doing across the world. It was only a few hours ago that a few Huntsmen had cleared through the wreckage of Beacon, and had found some fragments of a large bomb that was used to decimate the academy. It had been marked with the stamp of the Atlesian military, and the Valic kingdom was becoming extremely hostile towards their neighbor in the north.

It was possible that they needed just another nudge in order to further get tempers flared and battle lines drawn, but she was content to watch Atlas flounder in the accusations. How could they explain one of their tactical bombs went missing and was responsible for the death of numerous students? To compound the issue, Beacon was turning into a new Mountain Glenn, becoming overrun with Grimm scavenging the bodies that weren't recovered. When Erebus has learned this, he had taken a knot of brightly blonde hair from a hidden pocket and touched it to his mouth, lips curved in a mysterious and somewhat elated smile.

As Nyx entered the room, she noticed the figures in front of a large screen holding a barely restrained argument. Leora, with her tawny hair finally free from the crimson stains, paced back and forth in front of the screen, whiskered twitching. A tail whipped back and forth behind her, mirroring her agitation. She had kept to her color scheme of reds and oranges, but she had recently added a small rose emblem in black near her right wrist. When asked about it, she would reply with something about how the rose was a reminder of a certain flower she had picked. The Star that Leora was arguing with was Assane, still in her ocean blue and grey skirts. Leora could barely keep her voice below a shout, and it was clear that she was dissatisfied with whatever Assane had told her.

"Why can't we storm the manor? I killed the brat she was with, how hard could that ice queen be?!"

"I'm telling you, we don't need to move against her. Research tells me that the Schnee Dust Company makes large donations to the Atlesian military, so they are guilty of the Beacon bombing by association. If they were distrusted before, they will be hated now. This is something that we can let those mortals attend to by themselves!"  
"You are just a coward, Aquarius! You always have been, and always will be! You want to sit behind your little screens where no one can hurt you, while the _real_ warriors are out there winning the battle for our Lord and Lady! Just a pretty little ornament to admired, but you should learn to keep your mouth closed." Leora was stalking forward, moving like her starsake through the underbrush. The tension in the air was palpable, but Nyx wasn't going to stop it just yet. The insolent always needed to be disciplined.

Assane held her ground, green eyes fearlessly staring down into Leora's golden-brown ones. "I don't ever need to explain myself to you, Leo. While you are out there being a _real warrior_ ," she spat the term like it was something foul, "I am in here making sure that you aren't seen by cameras while you sneak around like a petty thief. You may have gotten the lion's share when it comes to strength, but you sure are lacking in the way of intelligence, aren't you?"

A tick had started twitching under Leora's eye, and suddenly, her gauntleted hand lashed out, striking Assane broadly across the face. The blow was hard enough to crack her head sideways and knock her to the floor. Landing hard on her palms, Assane turned and glared white-hot hatred at Leora. There was three cuts like claw marks under her right eyes, and her ichor, golden and thick, started welling from the lacerations. Leora stood over her, the gold blood dripping from the tips of her iron claws. "You do not disrespect your betters, Aquarius. It will cost you much more the next time you dare."

Nyx swept into the room, commanding silence from all those within. Leora looked up to Nyx, and then bowed gracefully acquiescing to her Lady. Assane's eyes, full of anger, briefly met Nyx's galaxy-colored orbs, then dropped to the ground.

"Rise, Assane."

"My lady, I did not mean. . ."

" _Rise_."

Picking herself up off the floor, Assane dusted off her skirts and then spread them widely, her gaze fixed firmly on the ground. Nyx came closer to her, and gently cupped the right side of her face. Assane still kept looking at the ground, and trembled slightly under the touch. Nyx came forward and gently licked the ichor that dripped down her cheek. The golden liquid was incredibly thick, like melted wax, and dissolved on her tongue with a cloying sweetness that was reminiscent of ambrosia. With it came the knowledge of ages, everything that she had missed while within the deepness of her slumbers. It was cool, and tasted of immortality.

Pulling away, she grabbed Assane's face in her hands, forcing her to look to look Nyx in the eyes. All the color drained away from Assane, leaving her as pale as her star. "I have warned you never to look at me directly. Now, you will regret it.

Raising her free hand, she folded her fingers like claws and plunged them into Assane's left eye.

Assane's screams echoed throughout the room, and they were music to Nyx's ears. Ichor spurted from her eye, and splattered across Nyx's dark skin, staining her with the essence of sunshine. Her fingers closed around Assane's eye and pulled, hearing her screams rise into a crescendo. Finally, the optic nerve snapped under the pressure, and the eye came out into Nyx's hand. The ocean-green irises looked pale in the light, and Nyx closed her hand around it, crushing it like the proverbial grape. She let go of Assane, who dropped the floor, her hands cradling her injured eye socket. Ichor covered her hands and marred the front of her dress. Leora knelt down and put her arms around her, taken aback by Nyx's savage display. It was unlike her mistress, and it terrified her. The Stars could be vicious and backbite with each other, but Nyx had always regarded them as children, and left them to their squabbles.

Smiling benignly, Nyx raised her fingers to her mouth and licked the golden taint away. "Clean yourself up, and stay out my sight. Don't forget, little Aquarius, you have a job to do."


	11. Jailbreak

They had to leave, and it would be hell trying, Modriot was sure. But they needed to leave soon, before they developed a sense of complacency and contentment. It was also incredibly likely that Weiss would try to separate them and send them to their respective family homes. It would awkward explaining to the heiress why she would herself had no home to go back to. It would also be an incredible drag if she had to go and collect her teammates individually. Jacen would be sent back to Vale, Mallaithe to Northern Atlas, and Aiden to Southern Atlas.

It was nearing midnight, and the manor was still silent, still in grieving like their mistress. It was no surprise that Winter Schnee, Weiss' elder sister was with the Atlesian military and no doubt having to come up with a reason for the missing artillery, but where was the head of the household? Mr. Schnee had not put in an appearance, and that was all well and good, Modriot supposed. One less person to deal with while they made their escape. For now, it was time to get the team ready.

Mallaithe would be the easiest to wake, so Modriot went there first. The tiny girl was already in bed, almost disappearing into the large downy surface. Her tri-toned hair was spread like a fan across the white pillow, making the gray and black sections look darker and her pale skin look like porcelain. The red tattooed slashes across her eyes stood out in stark relief, making her look like a corpse, drained of all color. Reaching out her hand, Modriot grasped Mallaithe's shoulder and shook her lightly. Suddenly, Modriot found herself on the floor, looking up calmly into Mallaithe's snarling face, pale eyes narrowed in hatred. As soon as it had happened, she was gone, like she had teleported to the other side of the bed. Her eyes were wide and full of fear, and she made no motion to help as Modriot picked herself up off the floor. Before either of them could say anything, there was an abrupt laugh that startled them both. Jacen had opened the door that was separating the two rooms, and had seen the whole altercation.

Modriot's glare killed the laughter in his mouth, and he cleared his throat, a faint embarrassed blush rising on his face. "Get Aiden. Do it now." Her command was soft, but the bite in it was sharper than normal. The tone brooked no argument, and Jacen swallowed whatever words were on his tongue to turn and do as she said. Modriot turned to face Mallaithe, who was already half-dressed in her normal attire. She refused to make eye contact with Modriot, but Modriot didn't care.

"What was that about?"

There was no answer.

"Tell me. I want to know."

A heavy sigh escaped Mallaithe, rattling her small frame. She kept her back to Modriot as she pulled the black section of her hair up in a practiced motion. "You wouldn't understand. You're too tough."

Modriot sat on the bed and patted the spot next to her, the gesture seeming alien from her. Mallaithe looked uncomfortable, then came around and sat next to her, but a little distance away. Her coattails whispered against the bedsheets as they settled, and Mallaithe stared down at her hands clutching the hem of her dress.

"It happened when I was young. It'll be a cold day in hell when I forget it. My hair has always been these colors since I was born, and my eyes were always this pale. I thought I was normal, because growing up on my clan's land in northern Atlas told me I was. My family had to move because of my father's job, and we packed up and moved to Vale. Then, I learned I was not so normal. I was teased on the playground for my strange coloring, and even called Spook Monster, much like Aiden does to me now. I know he means nothing by it, but it still hurts, even now.

There were these four upperclassmen that always seemed to tease me the worst, but I never really thought anything of it. But one day. . ." Her voice cracked, and her eyes squeezed shut, the tattoos looking brighter against her pale skin. "One day, they followed me, and they attacked me. They didn't like how I looked, and they thought that it was best left in their hands to change me." Tears were starting to find their way out from her closed eyelids, and dripped down to create dark spots on her dress. "It all happened so fast, but it plays out so slowly in my mind. Two of them held me, one with either arm. One held my head, and the other held the lighter and shears. They decided that I needed to lose some of my hair, to make me "more normal." I struggled, and the one holding my head didn't have a firm enough grip. My head jostled loose, and the one leaning in to burn my hair missed."

Her hands went to her neck and ear, cradling them. "He burnt me. He burnt my skin." Pulling her hair back, she showed Modriot the right side of her neck and ear. There was a patchwork of faded scars. Modriot reached out to touch them, but dropped her hand as Mallaithe flinched away. "I don't know how much time passed before someone stopped them, but it felt like an eternity. The next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital with bandages covering half of my head. I have never let anyone touch me since; I can't stand it. I don't know how can be around Aiden either, considering I developed a rather severe pyrophobia."

"So I noticed." Modriot stood, and looked towards the door. Jacen and Aiden were standing there, and both of them looked sad. It was obvious that they had heard all of it. Mallaithe held their gazes, pale eyes narrowed. They entered the room and gathered around. Modriot looked all of them over, and then smiled. It was a cold smile, one devoid of anything human.

"We need to leave. We won't be able to do so quietly. I hope you are all prepared to follow my orders with no argument." Silence followed, and Modriot took that as an affirmative. "We will be splitting up to do our assigned jobs. Aiden, you will be creating a distraction. I don't think I need to tell you how to do that. Mallaithe, you will be responsible for some. . . beneficial thefts. Money, food, medical supplies, anything you know we will need. Don't get caught. Jacen, you and I will be commandeering a means of transportation. A Bullhead is too big and too loud, so that's out. We need something smaller, but speedy."

"Alright. You have your assignments. Mallaithe and Aiden, leave at the same time. I don't trust this place, so keep a watch for cameras. I know it's a manor, but these are the Schnees we are talking about. I wouldn't put it past it them. Now, go."

The entire manor was quiet and dark, and that was perfect. That meant that he had to move swiftly and silently, and Aiden knew just what to do. He and Mallaithe snuck along the hall, moving with barely a whisper of a sound. They would be going down a few levels, with her to the kitchens and him to the basement. He was banking on there being a wine cellar, what with this being the home of a very wealthy family. "So, where are you heading first?" He asked, turning back to face Mallaithe. She stopped, standing in a panel of moonlight that the windows let in. The light reflected in her eyes, turning them almost translucent, like they were lit from within. She blinked, and gave a small smile. "Kitchens first. Those are easier."

They split up after that, Mallaithe deviating down a separate side staircase, and Aiden continuing to the furthest level. It was easily sometime after one in the morning, after an hour had been chewed up developing a plan. Aiden was the key point to this plan, as it was his responsibility to keep the staff of the manor busy while the rest of the team snuck out. He knew that this was the Schnee Manor and that there was probably loads of Dust he could easily ignite, but that was too easy and would not cause the slow burn he wanted. Burn Dust ignited too easily and burned out too quickly, so it wouldn't afford the team the time it needed. On the other hand, he knew that there would be one thing that every ridiculously wealthy family had, and that was always kept in the basement.

A wine cellar, or an expansive liquor cabinet.

As he progressed lower, he could feel it getting colder. When holding wines, he knew that certain types had to be held at a certain temperature to preserve them. Unfortunately, wine didn't really ignite; it didn't have a high enough alcohol content to really burn. If he was lucky, he would find something with a higher proof, like tequila or sambuca. He came up on a door marked with a Schnee crest, and he knew that he found what he was looking for. Opening the door, he was greeted with a wave of oaky and dusty smells. Entering, he passed racks of barrels and bottles, until he found what he was looking for. It was an innocuous bottle, small and clear, holding a dark liquid. Cracking open the lid, Aiden took a small mouthful before spitting it out onto the floor. Chuckling lowly, he turned the bottle around to inspect the label. "Well, Mr. Schnee definitely has some things to hide, doesn't he?" The bottle he held in his hand was rum, and not just any rum. It was a 151 proof rum that was banned in certain areas, and it certainly was banned in this part of Atlas. The best part about this liquor was that it is very _very_ flammable.

Tilting the bottle, he poured its contents all over the floor and over the other bottles in the racks. There were some bottles of tequila and brandy around, and they would make for some nice poppers in the flames. He made a trail to the door, then knelt down and channeled a bit of his Semblance to his fingertip. A little flame erupted there, and he directed his hand down, touching the flame to the puddle of liquid. Almost instantaneously, like it was gasoline, the liquor ignited, weaving its way to the other liquids in the room. Soon, the room was ablaze, flames crackling around the oak barrels and licking at the glass bottles. There was a loud cracking noise as some of the glass bottles shattered under the heat, and the flames roared even higher. Suddenly, there were loud shrieking sounds as some hidden fire alarms started blaring, intent on waking up the house. Freezing for a second, Aiden then rose and made his exit. He could hear hurried steps running towards the cellar, and he made it up to another level and dashed into a study so he wouldn't be seen as the staff came down. The air was filling with panicked shouts as the fire grew, and suddenly there were screams as there was a loud whooshing noise. Flames started licking at the door of the study, and it startled Aiden. Some idiot must have tried to put out the alcohol fire using water, and that wouldn't work, it would only make it worse.

The fire was encroaching into the study, and that meant that it was time to make his exit. Luckily, the window on the other side of the room was a latch frame, so he didn't have to shatter the glass. Crossing the room, he opened it, and felt a cool breeze sweep across his face. Wasting no time, he climbed out the window, and made onto the expansive lawns. He crossed the lawns, heading the direction of the large garage, hoping that his other teammates had managed to complete their tasks.

Mallaithe crept along the hallway, keeping her back to the wall and sliding along it. She had let her hair down, letting the black obscure the gray, and hid her hat within her coat. If she were to be seen, she was going to put on a show to the best of her abilities. _Might as well live up to the Spook Monster reputation I've been given._

Provisions were easy enough to come by, but where would she find spare Lien just lying around? It was likely that there was a safe or a strongbox in one of the studies, but she didn't have the tools or the knowhow to crack it. Surely there must be some pocket change left around? Maybe she would be better off looking in the kitchens first.

Going down some stairs and turning into a long windowed hall, she suddenly pressed herself into a shadowed corner as a pair of maids rushed past her. There were chattering worriedly, not sure if they should help with the effort to quell the fire. One of the stopped talking and looked around uneasily.

"Is there someone there?"

 _Shit._

"Hello?" The maid was getting closer, and it was unnerving Mallaithe. Quickly, she shook her hair in front of her face, obscuring most of it and hiding her telltale tattoos. Stepping out into the darkness, she once again entered into a panel of silvery moonlight. Both maids gasped as they saw her, and pressed closer together, seeking some comfort from the the other. Peering up from the veil of her hair, one of Mallaithe's eyes flashed in the light, making it seem like she had pale fire in place of an iris. She pitched her voice lower and made it gravelly, and slowly swayed her hip forward, making the ribbon tails of her coat seem to come alive.

"Do you dare challenge the Spook Monster?"

Both of the maids clung to each other and gave rent to piercing screams. Turning, they both ran down the halls, their voices echoing in the empty halls. Pushing her hair back, Mallaithe hurried down the hall, knowing that it was only a matter of time before someone came to investigate what they were screaming about. While it was likely that it would be chalked to the fire, if they told someone that they had encountered the Spook Monster, it was possible that someone might come looking for her.

Following her nose to the smell of baking bread, she found the kitchens, and luckily, found them abandoned. Looking around, she found a decently sized bag tucked into a cupboard, and she started filling it with all kinds of things. Bread, apples, dried meat, aged semi-hard cheese; she knew these things to be good traveling food, as they would keep for quite a while. Filling her bag full, she tied it off, then left it on the counter as she started snooping around. It was very likely, in a large household staff such as this, that there was someone, most likely the housekeeper, was in charge of kitchen finances. That means that there must be some secret place that the monetary allowance was hidden, that only the kitchen and the housekeeper would have access to. On the flat countertop, she rapped her knuckles along the flat wooden surface, listening for a hollow sound. On the third rap, the hollowness she was listening for rang true. Using her fingers to prise up the slat of wood hiding the compartment, she was rewarded with a nice little cache of Lien chits. This was no doubt the money used to pay for groceries and cookware. Surely they could afford to miss this? Swiping them up, she stuffed them into her coat, and froze as a light landed on her.

"What are you doing, miss?" That voice belonged to Genoveva, the seamstress. She looked at Mallaithe from across the counter curiously, and then her eyes found the gap in the countertop. "Are you. . . stealing from Miss Schnee?"

"I'm so sorry."

Mallaithe moved faster than Genoveva could counter. She vaulted over the counter, grabbing the loose plank during the motion over. Swinging it, she cracked Genoveva across the head and laid her out, the seamstress crumpling into a pile like a wad of paper. Dropping the plank, Mallaithe grabbed the bag and rushed out the servant's door on the far side of the room, sprinting like mad for the garage.

"This job is going to take two hands, or else I would do it. As it stands, do me a favor and don't electrocute yourself like an idiot." Modriot stood against the surprisingly utilitarian Jeep in the Schnee garage. She was going to keep an eye out for Aiden and Mallaithe, and anyone who would possibly try to stop them while Jacen hotwired the car. She would instruct him how to do it, but it was up to him not to hurt himself.

"First things first, you need to remove the panels that cover the top and bottom of the steering column. Don't damage them, because you need to put them back." Jacen had found a flat-bladed screwdriver, and gently tried to lever them off. The plastic gave some resistance, but came off with a sharp snap. They weren't broken, just loud. Placing the panels on the seat next to him, he picked up the gloves he found and pulled them over his fingerless gauntlets. The last thing he needed was to be electrocuted.

"So, there's a bunch of wires here. What ones do I use?"

"Try to look for the wires that lead to the battery and the starter. You will be stripping those and connecting those."

"How in the fuck am I supposed to tell what is what?"

Modriot sighed. "They aren't really color-coded, but generally, the red wires send power to the car, and the brown ones handle the starter."

Jacen didn't have a wire stripper, but necessity was the mother of invention. Using the edge of the screwdriver blade, he pressed it against the dashboard and scraped the blade against the wire, trying to remove its insulated cover. With some pressure and some hard horizontal swipes, he had them stripped, their metallic insides glistening. With a quick motion, he twisted the power wires together, and was rewarded with the dashboard lights coming on. Swallowing, he then stripped the cover of the starter wires.

"Now what?"

"Freeze!"

Jacen froze, the live wires in his gloved hands. A group of seven men in tactical gear had stormed the garage, with guns trained on him and Modriot. Still standing calmly, Modriot gave the a cursory glance before she answered "Carefully touch those wires together. If you did it right, you should see a spark." A thin smile crossed Modriot's face, and she advanced forward, body swaying like a snake.

"I said don't move!" A harsh male voice barked at her, and the tension in the air was palpable.

Suddenly, there was a flurry of movement as she streaked forward like a bolt of blue lightning. Shots split the air as they hit the air where she used to be. Jacen cursed loudly and ducked down, trying not to zap himself with the crackling wires in his hands. He could hear the sounds of exertion and of hard blows being dealt. He brought the wires together and suddenly, they sparked, sending a pulse of life roaring into the engine. "Yes!" He exulted, as he hurriedly tried to recover the exposed wires with insulation. They would still prove a hazard if they weren't covered up, and he didn't need to catch himself while he was driving. Tucking the wires back, he replaced the steering wheel columns as fast as he could, then stripped off the insulated gloves. Tossing them behind him, he threw the manual Jeep into gear and hit the gas. It rocketed forward, smashing into one of the guards and knocking him sideways. Modriot took a running leap and landed in the passenger seat, her gray hair flying wildly.

They plowed through the garage doors and onto the lawn, tearing up the manicured greenery. A distant shout alerted them to Aiden, who was running at them full tilt in a perpendicular line. At the point of crossing, he grabbed the chassis and flung himself up and inwards, landing in a sprawl in the backseat. He righted himself with enough time to see Mallaithe chasing the car, a large bag held in her hands. Her arm arced forward, and there was a thunk as one of her dueling daggers hit the chassis. There was a silvery line attached to it, and it extended to her hand. Suddenly, the line thickened and shortened, pulling Mallaithe forward with an intense speed. She was using the water like a rope, and her Semblance was holding it together tightly enough for it to behave as it was solid. As she approached the car, she landed boot first on the chassis, then hopped into the car. She funneled her water away into its vial around her neck, and then pulled her dagger from the car.

Jacen floored the gas pedal, and they streaked into the night, a current of electricity sparking through each of them as they sped away from Schnee Manor. WInd whipped around each of them, ruffling hair and burning the eyes. No one cared much, as a triumphant howl rose from the car and echoed along the expansive road in front of them. Further out, they could barely see the reflection of the shattered moon on the breaking ocean waves. The ocean was their destination, and their passage back to Vale and into the hell that it had become.

 _Author's Note:_

 _Just for fun, I will start including a list of songs were played during the writing of a chapter. Sometimes, they won't make any sense, but I will include them anyway. So, the playlist for Jailbreak includes:_

 _Bruises and Bitemarks by Good With Grenades_

 _Heart Heart Head by Meg Myers_

 _Move Your Body by My Darkest Days_

 _Nihilli Mambo by Block B_

 _Pompeii by Bastille_

 _Summertime Sadness (Cedric Gervais Remix) by Lana Del Rey_

 _Youth by Daughter_


End file.
